Enigma
by theRottenLord
Summary: AU where Tom Riddle works at the ministry and Voldemort hadn't made his move just yet. The story centers on Riddle mostly, but includes OOC!Harry Vampire!Harry. HP/DM, HP/TMR
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related. I simply borrow the characters and twist the stories._

_A/N: this is an AU Tom Riddle's story, so please beware that canon is severely neglected sometimes. For the greater good._

- normal speech

_- inner thoughts_

**- parseltongue **

* * *

Tom Marvolo Riddle entered his office and tiredly lowered himself into his chair. It had been a very long exhausting day and as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement he would have to leave much later then the most ministry's employees. The tall stack of files and papers on his desk told him that much. He put his elbows on the desk and hid his face in his hands. He often wondered how the Ministry hadn't had already fallen apart, being under the control of corrupted and stupid cowards, like one minister of magic in particular. The man, Cornelius Fudge, was absolutely unbearable. Sometimes Tom was an inch from leaping at the man and strangling him to death. He always knew that there should be made a lot of changes in the wizarding world, starting with legislations. But he never imagined that everything was that bad. Those dimwitted muggle-lovers brought destruction and devastation along with their "fresh, unbiased views" on the muggle policies and the Statue of Secrecy. The most ridiculous fact was that none of them ever lived in the muggle world and they had never been on the receiving end of muggle's hatred. Tom had. He knew perfectly well just how actually dangerous the muggles were. The wizarding community wouldn't stand a chance if something happens. And it was his job now, to prevent any kind of conflicts and problems. And he hated it.

He heard a knock on his door and sighed. "Enter."

"Mr Riddle, s-sir, the mi-minister..." Oh it was the redheaded junior assistant of Fudge. _What is the idiot doing here at this late hour?_

"Wetherby!" Tom barked to interrupt the boy's babbling, "What. Do. You. Want? Loud and clear, please," he massaged his temples and closed his eyes shut in exasperation. He knew perfectly well that the boy's name was Weasley. Percy Weasley, the third son of another ministry employee Arthur Weasley - the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. But Fudge called him Wetherby and who was Tom to deny himself a small pleasure of mocking the thick redheaded idiot of a boy, who was so full of himself, thinking that being the junior assistant would make him important. Perhaps he was aiming for the minister's chair itself. Now that was something, with a leader like Wetherby the apocalypse would surely come much faster then expected.

"Sir, the minister wishes to see you, now," the boy finally whispered. He always was terrified of the Head of the DMLE. The man radiated danger and pain, although he looked innocent enough. And that was why he unnerved Percy greatly.

"And what, pray tell me, is the matter? It is almost nine, Wetherby, I have a mountain of work that neither you nor the minister would do, and I do have a life, you know," Tom gritted out, his eyes still closed. It was always such a joy to let the dogs lose on someone, especially if that someone didn't deserve it or simply was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"He wouldn't say, sir. He said it's personal," the boy practically wailed, looking down at his feet, his face redder than his hair. Tom groaned and rubbed his face hard with his both hands. Personal meant that Fudge was going to meddle with his free time. _Again_. He had almost moved in to his office already, staying overnight more often than not. That was the price he had to pay for all the changes and improvements he was able to bring into the department and the Ministry during the long eight years he held his position. What else was there that minister could possibly want from him.

Tom stood up and glared at the redhead, "Why are you still here, Wetherby? Go, tell him I am coming in two minutes," the boy couldn't hear the rest - he had already ran off, scared to get some more lashing. "Idiot," Tom hissed. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, stretched his stiffened back. _Soon, he would get to them all soon_. Putting on the stony mask of indifference, Tom strode out of his office, slamming the door behind him as loud as possible, and proceeded down the hall to the lifts. Going one level up, he walked slowly to the minister's office. Taking a long calming breath at the door, he composed himself once more, and entered. The secretary was absent, of course. Wetherby was nowhere in sight, luckily for him. Tom knocked on the dark wooden door with Fudge's name on it.

"Enter!" he heard the voice on the other side shout. This fat dimwit was too loud and too nosy. Tom winced at the sound and pushed the door open.

"Tom! Finally! I've got the most exciting news for you, my friend!" the ball of a man was literally rolling on his table, shaking his fist in the air, a paper clutched in it. Tom inwardly groaned at the sight but bowed his head politely and came closer, looking at his boss expectantly. "Tom, as you know Appius is taking his leave, retires to spend more time with his sweethearts of grandchildren. Merlin, the man didn't waste his time, I tell you, he has what, nine sons and daughters, and so many grandchildren, I can never guess the right number! Anyway, he's retiring in a week, we are holding a goodbye party of course, so it is a must to attend, no-no, Tom, don't even try to worm your way out of it, I know you've got a lot of work and all that but you know Appius, he deserves-"

"Do I have to plan his retirement party or was there any other reason you called, sir?" Tom bit out acidly, unable to hear one more word out of the git's mouth.

"Oh, ah, right! Tom, to make long story short: I want you to become my new Senior Undersecretary! You're the best man for the job! And people just love you!" Tom wasn't sure if the last part wasn't a poorly executed sarcastic remark, but he ignored it in favour of the initial news. A Senior Undersecretary. Well, he wasn't expecting this but it was most fortunate for his future plans. That awful Umbridge woman was supposed to take on Aappius' position, but the bitch must have done something stupid again. _Serves her right._

Tom didn't show his satisfaction. "I see, I am honored, sir, and greatly appreciate your trust," he said with a blank look on his face.

"Oh, please, Tom, who else could I choose? Now, you will be officially promoted in three days. Pack your things up and move into Appius' office."

"Yes, sir."

"On thursday we will hold a press-conference, just the usual, you'll do fine as you always do. Now was there anything else...?" the fat sweating man frowned in concentration and Tom thought he could hear the wheels turning inside the red balding head. Oh how he wished to choke that patronizing tone out of that fat red neck. "No, I believe that's all for now. Oh, and Bones will take on your job, so pass all your papers to her," Fudge stood up and put on his bowler hat, "Now, I'll be running home, good night, lad," he patted Tom on the cheek, standing up on his toes to reach for Tom's face, and, smiling slyly, waltzed out of his office. Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. This man was going to be the death of him. He needed just a few years to bring this shithole down and rebuild it into the new governing body that would be efficient and incorruptible. _Just a few more years of suffering_. He could always take the easier way, but that was a way of destruction and inevitable civil war. It was the ace in his sleeve he needed for a later use. Right now he would be treading gently.

Tom decided if he was to be promoted in just a few days, he would leave the work unfinished. He never did so before, being the control freak that he was - he never left an unfinished business. Or did he? Yes, perhaps, Dumbledore could be seen as such. Tom sighed and stored the thoughts of the old man away, for later. He walked to the apparition point of the Ministry's first level and vanished into the thin air. The next moment he appeared in his study at the Riddle manor.

**_enigma_**

Tom moved to a bookcase on his left and opened the small doors camouflaged as the book spines. Behind them a small bar was hidden. He took out a bottle of Ogden's best fire-whiskey and poured himself a tumbler. He then sat down into the comfortable leather armchair behind his desk. Looking into the fire, rolling the drink in his glass absentmindedly, he thought fast and hard. His new position would bring him so many benefits, perhaps, he could move the execution of his plans to a much closer date. Yes, he definitely could. Fudge would no doubt force all his work onto him, which was fine with Tom, he knew how to deal with all the departments, he had been doing so successfully for eight years as the head of DMLE, he would simply have even more control now, and over the Department of Mysteries as well. He would also, probably, get the ultimate access to the press which would be just perfect. Manipulating the news was the first step. He needed to extend his grasp on Hogwarts, but with Dumbledore as a headmaster it was a very difficult task. He made a mental note to call Malfoy, who was one of the school's governors, to discuss their next moves regarding the future of the children. Those who had been coming into his department in order to become aurors were petty excuses of wizards, their education and powers were average at best. Malfoy kept track of every promising student, sending Tom his reports from time to time. There weren't many of them, and there were no prodigies like Tom himself was. All the best were usually taken by the Unspeakables, though they weren't good enough for Tom anyway. And then there was Crouch and his crazy idea of reviving the Triwizard tournament. The process had already been set in motion, the norwegian and french ministries had already prepared all the necessary contracts and it was decided to hold the tournament the next school year. Coincidentally, the tournament was going to be held at Hogwarts, since the school housed the last champion. When Tom first heard about it a year ago, his first thought was to send an anonymous letter to St Mungo's to provide Bartemius Crouch with as much care as possible, for the man was completely insane. However, after giving it some consideration, he decided that the tournament could be used to his own advantage. And now, being the new Undersecretary, he could control the whole thing easily and even roam the halls of Hogwarts freely. Yes, that was a very fortunate development. The second step was to put fear into people's minds and the Triwizard tournament was just the right event to use for it. He would put on an impressive show.

It was almost three in the morning when Tom finally finished his drink and decided to go to bed. He felt exhausted and craved for a good night's sleep. However, all his wishes were for naught - he tossed and turned, tormented by the dreams of his past. Waking up in a few hours made him feel only worse than before. Growling lowly, he stumbled back into his study and summoned the house-elf. After three cups of the strongest black coffee he had ever had, he felt a little bit better and his sharp mind was once again working on its full speed and power. It was time to go to the Ministry - he had a huge office to clear of his belongings and sort the documents he needed to take with him. _One more tiring stupid day._ He rubbed his reddened tired eyes, wondering why did he feel so overworked. It hit him a second later. His glamours, he hadn't put them down for a while, being constantly stuck at work. He sighed and went to the bathroom to drink a pepper-up potion. He would put them down for the weekend. They weren't difficult but they consumed a lot of his magic power and physical energy, he had to take a rest now and then.

**_enigma_**

An hour later Tom was going through the boxes and boxes of documents in his office, trying to sort out the ones he could use later. While doing so, he couldn't help but think back on the dreams he saw that night. His past. He rarely let himself reminiscent on his life, thinking it fruitless to dwell on something that had already happened and couldn't be changed. The memories of his long gone unhappy childhood came fourth into his mind and Tom grimaced at them. Those were the worst years of his life.

His first recollections were of himself aged four, being beaten by the older boys at the muggle orphanage, where he lived since his very birth. All he had then was only his muggle name and the knowledge that his mother died delivering him into this world; naming him Tom - after his father, Marvolo - after his grandfather, and Riddle, which was her name in marriage. He had never really forgiven her for leaving him alone. He knew she probably died of exhaustion and starvation, living the last months of her life out on the streets, but nevertheless, it was her doing that she ended up in such a situation, and instead of taking care of her child, she simply let go of her life. She was weak and that was what he hated about her the most.

Growing up at the orphanage during the hungry '30s was hard, especially for someone as special and intelligent as Tom. He was truly a genius child, having learnt to read and write by the age of four, remembering everything exactly the way it was written or pictured; his thoughts were clear and logical, he talked like an adult, composing long sentences without any trouble, using big words, which definitions he understood perfectly. His mind worked differently and it showed. And it made others jealous. And jealousy and envy always led to one scenario: he got beaten and humiliated. Despite his intelligence he was weaker than most. The caretakers didn't pay any attention to the obvious bullying and never had Tom heard a kind word from them, never had he received any pity, or kindness, or affection towards himself - all those emotions were foreign to him. By the age of six he learnt his lesson the hard way. After a long good whipping for something he hadn't done, courtesy of Ms Cole, he knew for sure that no adult would ever come to his rescue, nobody would ever help him. He was alone.

Some time later he discovered that he was also different. Not only did he surpass other children in intelligence, but he also had his special "gifts". Everything started with a little garden snake he met at the playground behind the orphanage building. Hiding in the bushes with a book in his hands, he almost stepped on her, but heard her angry words about stupidity and ignorance of the humans just in time to spare her the accidental death. He instantly realized that it wasn't the snake who spoke english, but it was he who understood the snake's language. Intrigued, he tried to answer her and to his surprise he found himself hissing back at the snake. It was the first time someone called him "master" and did his bidding. Since then all the strange, wonderful things had been happening to him.

He was a beautiful child, with pale skin, bright teal eyes, long slightly upturned nose, delicately sculpted rose lips, tangled but soft dark brown hair - he knew how to use his innocent angelic look to manipulate adults, but it was nothing in comparison to his powers. He could make anybody do what he wanted with just a little persuasion on his part. He could hurt them, and pain worked better then anything else. The fear of pain drove them to succumb to his wishes. Thus, hidden in the shadows, he developed his new found skill using the children as his lab rats. Of course, the adults noticed that something changed about him, and, of course, they reacted accordingly. He was eight when they tried to exorcise him for the first time. The memories of that horrible night still gave him shivers. He would never understand how could muggles be so cruel to their children in the name of some god they worshipped. After the exorcism everything got only worse. With every blow, with every hurting word, with every glare, something inside of Tom cracked. It finally snapped when the older boys caught him one night in the cellar and beat him so hard he lost his consciousness. And when he woke up the next day, he found his body covered in his own blood and a word "monster" carved deep into the skin of his chest. When Tom walked out of the cellar - he was a changed boy.

Tom rubbed his chest unconsciously, pushing a pile of files aside. He'd spent almost three hours shifting through the papers and it was driving him insane. He huffed in annoyance and stood up. Pulling the already sorted files with the most recent ones, he decided that was it, everything else would be for Bones to dig through and make sense out of. He brought the documents into his new office on the first level, next to Fudge's, and sat down on the visitor's sofa. Appius left a lot of trash behind: pictures, certificates, figurines, holiday cards and all that rot that made Tom's teeth ache. He pulled out his long white yew wand and waved it in the year, banishing all the foreign objects. Satisfied, he relaxed and slumped a little on the sofa. Yawning, he looked at his pocket watch and, seeing the time, concluded he could leave, nobody would notice anyway.

**_enigma_**

It was thursday and Tom was walking towards the main hall on the first level for the press-conference, that was to be held at 11 am. Fudge would, of course, be late. Impeccably dressed, as usual, he smoothed non-existent wrinkles on his rich black robe, openly ignoring the hungry looking vultures that called themselves "the press". They stood behind the silencing barrier that he had put up and waited impatiently for the Minister to arrive. Tom watched them with a blank mask on his face, inwardly accessing every face, remembering every profile he had on each one of these reporters. Blackmail was almost as effective as pain. Almost. His eyes narrowed when he saw Rita Skeeter standing in the first row, with her quill and notepad firmly clutched in her hands. This particular vile woman needed to be kept on a short leash.

The press had always been wary of the tall, dark looking Head of the DMLE, who could intimidate anybody into silence and submission without any magic whatsoever. But despite his scaring personality he seemed to be quite popular in the wizarding community, especially in the pureblood society, so they just had to put up with him at every conference that they had. Today, however, no reason for the meeting had been given by the Minister and they all stood there befuddled.

Finally, Fudge arrived. He ran into the hall, rubbing the sweat from his shiny forehead with a tattered handkerchief. Tom barely prevented his eyes from rolling. The man was a joke. After Wetherby shoved him his speech, blushing and mumbling all the time, Fudge climbed up on the little platform humphing and oomphing, then put on a sonorus charm and exclaimed:

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I invited you all here today...", Tom canceled the silencing barrier and looked away, sincerely bored, "... to announce some very important news. A few days ago, our beloved and highly respected Senior Undersecretary Appius Groppius retired from his ministry work, due to his age and desire to spend more time with his family. Today, I would like to introduce our new Senior Undersecretary, Mr Tom Riddle who had been the Head of the DMLE for the last eight years and is the reason we can sleep peacefully at nights..."

_If only you knew_, mused Tom, still looking away and not paying the introduction any heed.

"Minister! Minister, who is going to be the new Head of DMLE?" one of the reporters shouted.

"Madame Bones", Fudge flashed them his fake brilliant smile that always looked ridiculously strained.

"Mr Riddle!" the high pitched voice of Rita Skeeter cut into his head and Tom turned to face her with half-lidded eyes so that he wouldn't glare at her, "What is the first thing you are going to do as the new Senior Undersecretary?" She had this predatory smile on her face that could be used to scare the children before bed. Tom answered with a vicious smile of his own, "Why, Ms Skeeter, I am going to give you an interview."

Skeeter looked like she had just won a jackpot. Tom inwardly gaged but outwardly only nodded. The crowd broke into screams, demanding personal interviews with the new Undersecretary as well. Fudge tried to sooth the raging vultures but to no avail.

"Answering to Ms Skeeter question, though, regarding my new duties, I would like to announce that I will immediately establish new, higher standards for the quality of the performance of every department. I've spent eight years trying to improve Auror training program to provide our community with the best defense against crimes both of magical and muggle origin. Now is the time to key other departments up as well." Tom measured the crowd with his eye. They all vehemently wrote down his every word. As always.

"Well, that covered, I think that's all for today," Fudge looked perplexed. Tom nodded in agreement and walked away in the bright light of flashing cameras. On his way down the hall he had to stop several times to greet the many ministry's employees who were congratulating him on his promotion and offering him their compliments and promises of support. Shaking their hands, Tom didn't really listen to what they were saying. He was already planning and plotting in his head. He felt somebody squeeze his shoulder. Tom turned and was greeted by the sight of painfully purple robes. Albus Dumbledore was smiling at him with one of those sugar laced fake smiles, his eyes were twinkling - oh how much Tom hated it, ever since they first met almost 55 years ago...

"Tom, my boy, what a truly great improvement! I was just passing by and thought I'd personally congratulate you on your well deserved promotion," Tom knew not to believe a word that came out of Dumbledore's mouth. He gave the man a wry smile.

"I'm not a boy anymore, headmaster, and definitely not yours. I appreciate your kind words," he shook off the hand, that was still on his shoulder.

"Tom, must you be always so hostile towards me?" the old man sighed and shook his head in feigned sadness.

"Yes," Toms scoffed and strode away. Dumbledore frowned at his back but didn't say anything.

**_enigma_**

When Tom finally reached his office's door he felt somebody touch his arm. Turning his head he found himself face to face with Skeeter. The woman's eyes were boring into his and her red lips were stretched in an ugly parody of endearing smile.

"Mr Riddle, what of the interview you've promised? My readers would die to know more about the new Senior Undersecretary!"

_Yes, they would, wouldn't they_. Tom raised an amused eyebrow and opened the door before the reporter.

"Please, Ms Skeeter, be my guest," he gestured for her to come in. She seated herself on the visitor's sofa, took out the notepad and the quill and looked at him hungrily, licking her lips all the while. Tom had to turn away to not see her face. He leaned his tall frame on the table behind him, standing in front of Skeeter, looking down at her notepad.

"Now, could you tell me more about yourself, Mr Riddle? You are a true enigma of the wizarding world," she wriggled her eyebrows at him and put on, what she apparently thought to be, a seductive look.

Rita Skeeter couldn't believe her luck. She had been hunting for some material on the mysterious Riddle for the past five years, since he had made himself a name and became one of the most influential figures at the Ministry. But the man was unreachable. Always so cold and distant, never saying more then necessary. He left an impression of a strict if not cruel, powerful leader. There wasn't anything on him, the only few facts she knew were openly known to the public as well: Riddle was a half-blood, he was raised in a muggle orphanage, he graduated as the brightest and most promising student of Hogwarts, was known to be a prodigy, although in what field he specialized nobody had a clue. It was said he was a genius of Defense and Dueling - well, he did end up in the DMLE. Apart from that, Riddle was a blank page. She pursed her lips at his silence and looked him over. The man was truly intimidating, although looked rather innocent. He was very tall, very thin and very pale. His dark brown, almost black, hair, stricken with grey at the temples, were cut short, scarcely reaching to the chin, and were tucked away behind his ears. His long face was graced with rather soft features. High cheekbones, delicately curved jaw, big teal eyes, long slightly upturned nose, beautifully sculptured lecherous rose lips. He was a very attractive man and even the deep wrinkles of age didn't spoil his natural beauty. However, he still didn't look his almost 70 years. Skeeter involuntarily leaned closer, playing with her quill. She didn't know how it was possible but he both allured and scared her. There was something very dark about him, and the atmosphere around him reeked of danger.

"Ah, but I would prefer to remain an enigma, my dear Ms Skeeter," Tom was trying very hard not to sneer at her.

"Call me Rita, Mr Riddle," she buttered her eyelashes at him and puffed her chest forward, trying to show more of her breasts, that were all but falling out of her corset. Tom often wondered how could she dress so atrociously, given her profession. She looked like a cheap whore, not like a professional journalist. However, he doubted she was a professional at anything.

"Rita," he purred at her and bowed a little to bring his eyes on one level with hers. She held her breath and stared at him. He wordlessly and wandlessly cast Legilimens and shifted through her thoughts, influencing some of her decisions to his own benefit. Seeing her fantasies regarding himself made Tom feel nauseous and he hastily retreated. Regaining his composure, he continued, "Rita, let us make a standard interview now, and the more, ah, interesting information, would need to be deserved. One must work very hard and very well to get a reward from me."

"I understand," she breathed out. His intrusion made her relive her fantasies and now she was all but melting on his sofa, inwardly wishing the man would just take her and ravish her right that instant. Tom, seeing her thoughts written on her face, scowled and coughed into his fist, trying to hide his disgust. He moved to sit behind his desk.

"Well," he crossed his arms on his chest, "Let's begin, shall we?"

**_enigma_**

It was friday morning, and Albus Dumbledore was having breakfast in the Great Hall to the sound of a loud chatter of the many students. The term was slowly coming to its end, only a month was left until the summer break, and children were already ecstatic. Some, of course, were, on the contrary, terrified because of the examinations that were also coming along with the holidays. He smiled to himself, thinking of the graduating class of this year. So many talented young wizards and witches were to come into the wizarding world and change it to the better.

The sound of rustling feathers made him and most students lift their heads to see hundreds of owls flying in and descending onto the tables to deliver the post. A copy of the Daily Prophet fell right into his plate with a loud thud. Brushing the remains of his breakfast off of his robes, Dumbledore unfolded the newspaper and his gaze immediately fell on the photograph of the menacing looking Tom Riddle, standing next to the Minister. The heading read 'RIDDLE FOR THE NEW SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY'. Frowning discontentedly, the headmaster read the article.

_My dear readers, today I bring you the most exciting news. Yesterday, at the press-conference, the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge announced that Appius Groppius, who had been the Senior Undersecretary for the last 12 years had retired, and his position was given to our beloved Head of the DMLE Tom Riddle, who generously accepted it. Madame Bones was said to take over the DMLE. Now, my dear readers, your humble servant that I am, I was able to get an exclusive interview with the new Senior Undersecretary of the british wizarding community. _

_RS: Mr. Riddle it is such a pleasure to finally meet you personally and to talk you._

_TR: Thank you, Ms Skeeter, the pleasure is all mine._

_RS: Mr Riddle, I would like to congratulate you on your sudden but truly deserved promotion and would like to ask what do you think about it?_

_TR: Thank you. It was honestly unexpected, as you well know Ms Umbridge was thought to take the position. But I am, of course, touched and greatly honored. I appreciate the trust that the Minister and our people place in me._

_RS: Would your new position mean that you will be out more often, will have more contact with the people of our community?_

_TR: Yes, I believe I will. As the Senior Undersecretary I will make more public appearances as a supervisor and the Minister's substitute. However, I will also have more duties and responsibilities regarding the many departments of our Ministry._

_RS: What are you plans towards the departments? Your work, that had been done in the last eight years at the DMLE is priceless and had already brought a lot of great changes into our lives. What are we to expect in the future?_

_TR: When being the Head of the DMLE I had very high standards of the quality of work and employees at my department. This principle would not change and would affect all the other departments as well. _

_RS: Yes, thanks to you and your improvements of the Auror program we now feel safer than ever before._

_TR: You are welcome. The safety of our community is my first prerogative._

_RS: Speaking of the safety, Mr Riddle, what are your thoughts on the latest activity of the new suspicious sect of dark wizards? They've been terrorizing Britain for quite some time with their sudden and random attacks on both muggle and magical villages._

_TR: We've been keeping tabs on their activities since they first made themselves known, five years ago. However, it is hard to deal with them, as you said, their attacks are random and sudden, there is, unfortunately, no way we can predict their next move. This is why I strive to improve security measures._

_RS: But who do you think is behind this sect?_

_TR: I don't believe it's a sect as you call it, I'd rather classify them as the terrorists group, or an extremist political party that is yet to reveal its goals and demands. As for who stands behind it - I can't tell you anything, since I don't know._

_RS: Do you believe the rumors that come from France, where these terrorists originally started, that there is a new Dark Lord and he is behind all this?_

_TR: These are rumors, I base my opinions on the concrete facts. We don't have any such information confirmed. _

_RS: Do you think as the new Senior Undersecretary you would be able to put these attacks to a stop faster?_

_TR: I can only hope so. I will act at the best of my abilities, as always. _

Dumbledore stroke his beard thoughtfully. Riddle's promotion was most disturbing. He had already had enough power and influence before to make some noticeable changes and to ruin some of the Light's plans. And now as the second in command in the wizarding community he would be practically unstoppable. Thankfully, he didn't have any seats in Wizengamot, otherwise everything would have spiraled out of control eight years ago. Dumbledore often asked himself how did it happen, how did Riddle so suddenly appeared in the Ministry and began changing it in the long painful strides. He was like a hurricane. And now he would, no doubt, milk his new position to its limits and more. And his denial of the existence of the new Dark Lord was also suspicious. If Dumbledore's people were able to establish that he did, in fact, exist, then Riddle would have also known about that for sure. Certainly, Dumbledore knew very well that Riddle was a dark wizard. He might have been able to hide it from the Ministry and from the public, but he grew up at Hogwarts and the headmaster watched him develop his powers, so he couldn't be fooled. Of course it wasn't enough to suspect Riddle of supporting the new Dark Lord and intentionally missing these attacks, however, something was still amiss. Dumbledore didn't know what exactly, but the one thing he knew for sure: Riddle was dangerous.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related. I simply borrow the characters and twist the stories._

_A/N: this is an AU Tom Riddle's story, so please beware that canon is severely neglected sometimes. For the greater good._

- normal speech

_- inner thoughts_

**- parseltongue**

* * *

Lucius Malfoy always thought himself to be a perceptive man. A man who would act upon every possible opportunity that could bring his family more wealth, more glory, more influence. That was why, when his father Abraxas introduced him to a charming, though dangerously looking, Tom Riddle, who was nobody in the wizarding world at that time, Lucius had given his father and his strange friend a long tired look, indicating that he had no time to spare for nothing. But he was young, too young then, the seventh year at Hogwarts, of course he was arrogant and ignorant. He didn't see through the Riddle's innocent façade. Only when his father dragged him later into the dark fortress in the south of France and threw his weak body at the feet of said Riddle, did Lucius understand and see. The man was not just a leader, he was a powerful dark mage beyond any limits, who took everything he wanted and never looked back. Lucius couldn't know what would his branding give him and his family. And he was branded, like a kettle, along with a few other young wizards as himself that day. An ugly dark mark in the form of a skull and a snake marred his soft pale skin and his father looked at him with pride, probably, for the first time in his life - something that Lucius craved and fought for, for so long, was earned by prostrating himself before the mysterious red-eyed wizard.

Lucius could never imagine that the branding would, in fact, change his whole life and his perspectives. This servitude was his father's legacy that he left to his only heir. Dying in his bed he told Lucius, that his new Lord, his new Master was the one who would lead the wizarding world to a better future and he, as the head of the Malfoy family, would stand proudly by his side just like he, Abraxas, himself did. And with those few whispered words Lucius's fate had been sealed. However, Lucius found it to be a pleasant task to serve Tom Riddle. The man was sadistically cruel and terrifying when it was necessary, but also was highly intelligent, charming and caring; bleeding under his wand and laughing in his company seemed to be just the two sides of one coin that was now Lucius' life. Lucius couldn't say he was in love with his Master, but he was close to that. He admired the man, worshipped him, as all of them did, blindly followed him and, of course, wanted him.

Their number grew slowly but steadily throughout the years. Older men, who formed the original base of the followers, brought in their children, just like Abraxas did; younger ones, like Lucius, climbed the ranks and brought in their friends and classmates, later, even wives and lovers. During the sixteen years of Lucius' serving their network became gigantic, covering Italy, France, Germany, partly Russia, Denmark and, finally, Great Britain. Lucius, using his family name and Wizengamot's seats, very soon found himself to be one of the most influential men in the british wizarding community and at the Ministry of Magic as well, all due to the orders and advices, though Lucius always saw them as the same, of his Lord. Tom Riddle, whose aim was to conquer Great Britain and rebuild the community almost from a scratch, didn't rush, treading gently, planning carefully and executing precisely and effectively. Lucius, being brought up as a politician, marvelled at the skills and subtlety of his Master, with which he spun his web of lies, deceit and manipulation.

During these sixteen years Lucius came a long way from a simple servant to a close friend, advisor and finally the right hand of Tom Riddle. Despite his distant and cold demeanor, his Lord was a wise, insightful person who knew exactly how hard it was to find reliable and loyal people, let alone friends, in this world. Thus, he gradually warmed up to Lucius, practically raising him up after his father died, moulding him into the image he saw as the one worthy of a pureblood heir and his follower. They became friends, even confidants, and Lucius could proudly say, that he was one of a selected few, and probably, the closest one to their Master. And he did find pride in that, just like his father predicted he would.

Tom Riddle's plans and goals were honorable and efficient, Lucius saw their cause as a sacred mission of the dark. However, they were not hypocrites, they wanted to change the world to the better, to make it just for everybody in the wizarding community. Starting with small experiments in Europe, their Lord grew confident that the same could be done in his homeland, Great Britain. However, the improvements for the british community were to be many and difficult, and Tom had to work towards the results himself, entering the Ministry with Lucius' help and slowly working his way up the ladder, making small changes here and there, bribing and blackmailing, torturing and killing when necessary. He soon became the Head of the DMLE and in three years after that they began to move. Carefully and subtly at first, steadily worsening the attacks, making them more often and more sudden. Lucius entered the Board of the Governors to be able to spread their control over children at Hogwarts as well. Nobody suspected anything, and the Ministry was quietly filled with their people, who, like Lucius, seemingly worked for the good of the country and the Ministry, while bearing the dark mark and serving their Lord, who hid under the innocent mask of the high ranking but still an ordinary ministry's employee. Their spies were everywhere, even at Hogwarts. Tom was slowly tightening his grip on the heart of the british wizarding community, and nobody could imagine just what would soon hit them.

**_enigma_**

Yes, Lucius mused, as he walked down the corridor of the Riddle manor, he always thought himself to be a perceptive man, but now that Tom became the Senior Undersecretary, he realized just how many opportunities opened for their cause and for him personally with this unexpected development. It was saturday and he arrived to visit Tom and discuss their new, improved situation. Lucius knocked and opened the door into the small but elegantly furnished, well lit study, and couldn't help himself but let his eyes roam hungrily over the form of his friend and Lord, who was seated behind his desk, buried deep in his work, as usual. Tom, having canceled his glamours, looked just like sixteen years ago and many years ago before that, his barely twenty years old self. While being at the Ministry or in public, he glamoured himself to look his physical old age. But behind the mask of worn wrinkled skin hid a young, stunningly beautiful face full of life and arrogance; behind the tired teal orbs hid the shining blood red piercing eyes, that looked right into the souls of his servants; behind the large calloused veined hands hid the narrow soft palms with long elegant fingers of a pianist, not a ruthless cold-blooded murderer.

The red eyes shot up to look at Lucius curiously, and the devilishly lecherous rose lips stretched into a cunning yet welcoming smile. Tom was always glad to see Lucius, one of the few people in his life he could call a friend. His father, Abraxas, was one of them before his son. It was fortunate that Lucius took after him and grew up to become the intelligent and the cunning man that he was. _Well, who is the one to thank for that?_ Tom valued their friendship and Lucius' wisdom, and enjoyed the company of the haughty, blond haired wizard immensely.

"Ah, Lucius, so nice to see you, my friend. Do come in," the deep baritone caressed his ears and Lucius came closer and sat down beside the desk, smiling pleasantly.

"Tom, I have to congratulate you, this was a wonderful fit you threw," he dropped the yesterday's Daily Prophet issue on the top of the desk, smirking, "And I can just imagine the sour face of the old goat when he read this."

"Yes, Dumbledore was most disappointed with my promotion, had the cheek to come to the press-conference," Tom smiled coldly, his eyes narrowing at the mentioning of the blasted man. "How is Draco, by the way? I assume he is bored to death at Hogwarts, with their current pathetic curriculum."

Although Tom couldn't become the godfather to Lucius' only son and heir, due to his precarious position of being the Dark Lord, he actively participated in Draco's upbringing, helping Lucius in giving the child a better, more thorough education than the one that the Ministry offered at Hogwarts.

"Yes, Draco whines in his every letter," Lucius rolled his eyes, though the smile on his face indicated that he could read the complaints of his son forever, "Says if he didn't play quidditch he would have already be dead. Says he can't wait to see you this summer, by the way," he smirked at Tom. Tom smirked back.

"Tell that little ferret, I would flay the hide off him if he sulks at practicing again. If he wants to become a decent dueler, and not a failure like those pathetic aurors from my department, he'd better practice more of what I taught him."

"Oh I will, I will," Lucius laughed. Tom knew he was one of the few people Lucius could relax around and be his true self. It was refreshing, since most of his followers and employees usually were terrified of him and tip-toed around, hiding their eyes and mostly avoiding him if it was possible. This suited him just fine. But having someone to talk to and to laugh with was a rare luxury.

"So what are the plans for the immediate future? With your new position many figures on the chessboard moved, much could be changed sooner," Lucius said seriously.

"Yes," he answered simply. He knew that Lucius, being the man that he was, had already formed his own plans that could be useful to his own benefit. Tom didn't care. As long as Lucius was loyal to him and their cause, he didn't give a shit to the profits the man collected on their way.

"So we would still act as planned, at the World Cup? And what of the Triwizard Tournament? Now that you are the Undersecretary, Fudge would probably make you supervise and organize that nonsense?"

"We would make our move at the Cup, yes. We would reveal our intentions and place the mark," Tom drawled, sitting back in the chair and smiling at Lucius, who raised an eyebrow at that, "Already? But you wanted to do that at the tournament."

"I've decided the sooner we do that the better, I now have much more power at the Ministry and I still have DMLE under my thumb, so it wouldn't be a problem. I want to put up an impressive show at the Tournament, that would involve a lot of blood and screaming," he gave the blonde a charming smile and Lucius could only shake his head at Tom's arrogance. "I want them to see that they are not safe, no matter what they do, that their government is useless. And as the Undersecretary, I would, of course, point that out when they would be counting the bodies," he added and Lucius gave him a knowing smile. They understood each other perfectly.

"What of the Tournament itself? Is there even going to be a fair competition or would you and the other heads of the ministries choose the winner?"

"Surprisingly, they want it to be fair. However, the tasks wouldn't be a secret to the champions, of course, who would have doubted that," Tom rolled his eyes. He didn't understand all the fuss about the bloody tournament which had been long forgotten and most modern wizards and witches didn't even know it ever existed, "Do tell Draco not to get any sort of ideas into his already big head. The competition is going to be truly dangerous, judging by what they are planning, so only 17 year olds and older can participate."

"I wouldn't let him even if he was of age," the blonde scoffed, "And the DADA position? You could easily put one of ours there, since the Board would listen to your advice."

"That won't be necessary," Tom waved a hand at that dismissively, "Besides, Dumbledore had already asked Moody, who had already asked me. Let him teach the brats something useful. I will be spending enough time at the school as a supervisor, and with Severus' assistance it would be easier to control Dumbledore and find out about his plans. This would give me an opportunity to meet some of the Order members, and collect the information Severus is incapable of extracting for me."

"If you hadn't cursed the position, there wouldn't be a problem with a decent Defense education," Lucius chuckled mirthfully. Tom gave him a playful glare.

"If Dumbledore had given me the position in the first place, then nothing would have been done regarding our cause. And, Lucius, do you honestly believe that they would have found competent teachers even without the curse?" At the blonde's negative hum, he continued smugly, "Precisely. This is not a matter of the curse, this is a matter of the will. They do not want to have a generation of powerful wizards, capable of holding up against the Ministry, or the Light. If I could, I would have cursed all the positions at the school, but this would have been fruitless. To think of that - all they ever needed to do was to hire an expensive, powerful curse breaker to get rid of my curse. The fact that they haven't done so in more than fifty years speaks for itself, don't you think?" Tom pursed his lips and shrugged, showing how much he thought about the whole ordeal. Lucius nodded, smiling at his friend.

"To pass ahead of your next question," the blonde said, crossing his legs and shifting in his chair, "No interesting candidates could be spotted at the end of this school year and no noticeable names are on the list of the future first years. Draco is watching the older years carefully, but for now, I don't see anybody who could a least pique your interest."

"Why do I keep holding the candle," Tom sighed. All these children were useless, they could be swayed to his side easily but they were good for nothing, a simple muscle and spell force he had enough of already. He saw Lucius frown slightly and purse his lips into a thin line. Tom raised his eyebrows at him inquiringly. Noticing this, Lucius cleared his throat and waved his hand, "It's nothing. Just Draco being Draco," he gave Tom a small smile. But Tom knew the blonde better than Lucius knew his own self.

"Out with it, what is wrong with the little ferret?"

"He keeps whining about that gryffindor boy in his year," Lucius rolled his eyes, clearly irritated with the situation, "Draco picks on him constantly and the boy, who seems to be wiser than my son, keeps ignoring him. He even bribed the seventh year duelists to do something to that boy but he miraculously escaped, as he always does according to Draco, and now I have to suffer through the endless complaints," he sighed, defeated, and pinched his nose in exasperation. Tom barked out a laugh.

"Draco wants attention and that gryffindor deprives him of that. Poor ickle Draco. Though, I must admit, it is not a gryffindor trait to ignore and avoid troubles," he chuckled, amused. Draco was so arrogant and so selfish, he reminded him of Abraxas a lot. _Good old Abraxas, who gave so much gratis, and died too early because of that. _It wasn't that he regretted loosing him that much, but Abraxas was a friend, a lover, an important part of his life. _I shouldn't dwell on that now_.

"Yes, well, we had already had that talk, where I told him he should direct his energy elsewhere, perhaps, additional studying, but he is practically obsessed with that bloody gryffindor," Lucius growled lowly.

"Have you seen that boy? Maybe little Malfoy is not so little anymore and is simply trying to gain the attention of the object of his desire?" Tom gave Lucius a predatory smile.

"Merlin, spare me of that, not the gryffindor, Tom!" Lucius exclaimed with a stricken expression on his face, fidgeting in his seat uncomfortably. Tom threw his head back and laughed. Oh how he enjoyed tormenting his blonde friend.

"Well," Tom tried to pull himself together, but kept chuckling, "Just check the boy out, what is so special about him. Do you, at least, know the name? Some muggle raised half-blood, no doubt."

"According to Draco, the boy is of average level, that is, just as everybody else. The only special thing about him is his strange name," Lucius huffed.

"Strange name?" Tom smiled mockingly. Sometimes Lucius could turn something insignificant into a real tragedy of a national scale, and Draco shared that trait.

"Caligo Tenebris," Lucius intoned and sneered at the words.

"Well, it is rather strange, doesn't sound a half-blood to me, but other than that..." Tom shrugged.

"Never mind," Lucius waved his hands and sat up straighter, "I guess it is just a teenager stage Draco is going through, it will pass. Hopefully."

Tom smiled at him. Sometimes, Draco could be really unbearable. Tom turned back and opened his camouflaged bar, taking a bottle and two glasses out. He poured them both three fingers of whiskey and they touched glasses. Feeling the liquid burning its way down his throat, he thought about Abraxas again, and how unbearable the man used to be in his youth.

Abraxas was the one who noticed him when he first came to Hogwarts. Loud, arrogant, hyperactive, he annoyed Tom. But he was a few years older and Tom knew he would have to bear with him if he wanted to study in peace and escape a possible abuse. Thus, young Abraxas took him under his wing. Despite being the arrogant rich pureblood, there was much more to Abraxas than Tom at first thought. The boy was very intelligent and observant, he instantly saw the prodigy in Tom and was planning to help him develop his talents, to his own benefit, of course. At first their relationship was strictly business-like. Tom helped Abraxas with his studies, worked on his side projects and the Malfoy heir protected him from the vultures that the slytherins were and made them respect the poor boy from the orphanage. Although Tom hated being patronized, he knew there was nothing he could do about it at that time, he had to endure his position in order to simply survive. But as the year passed by, Tom found himself to be quite comfortable around Abraxas and their conversations became longer and more interesting, variable. When Tom came to Hogwarts in his second year, he could admit to himself, that he found a friend in the Malfoy heir. Abraxas, for his part, evidently warmed up to Tom, and found a desire to teach him the pureblood traditions and history, desire to welcome him into his world.

When Tom was in his fourth year, already a recognized prodigy and a leader of the Slytherin house, Abraxas was in his sixth year and their close and lasting friendship began to morph into something more complex, which Tom didn't really understand. He had already formed his group of followers by that time, which consisted mostly of the sixth and seventh years, and had already been practicing the dark arts with them. Abraxas, being one of the first members and close advisors, was the one who supplied Tom with illegal books and artifacts. And when he started giving Tom more intimate attention, Tom thought it was the part of their bargain, that Abraxas wanted to be paid for his service. Tom gave him what he wanted - Abraxas took him and soon every slytherin knew that they were lovers and Tom was under the protection of the Malfoy family.

Abraxas, ever so perceptive and intelligent, knew perfectly well that his feelings towards Tom were not and could never be shared, since Tom was above emotions and mortal people in general. But Malfoy didn't complain, he blindly followed and got his reward every time he wanted. Of course, Tom grew somewhat attached to his lover and couldn't deny himself the pleasure of a constant sexual satisfaction, but until the very last day of the Malfoy's life he didn't feel anything towards him, except respect and gratitude for his service.

When Tom graduated and got rejected the DADA position for the first time, he went away for a few years, traveling around the world in the search of a greater power. All of his followers obediently kept in touch with their Lord, sponsoring his trips and providing him with a welcoming home during the time when he needed to stay for a while. Abraxas was the one who supported him the most, and corresponded with him constantly, even though he had to marry a pureblood witch, the one he was betrothed to since his early childhood. When Tom settled down in France, they met again and Abraxas suggested him to call all of his followers and make their 'party' official, to attract more people to their cause which had already been formed in Tom's mind. Taking his advice, as he always did, Tom had founded their party of the Knights of Walpurgis and named himself the Dark Lord Voldemort. And thus he began his subtle political machinations, always backed up by Malfoy's gold and name. However, upon his short return to Britain, Tom got rejected his DADA position the second time, by Dumbledore himself, and realized that there was no future for him in his homeland, not yet. He had to go back to France and went deep into the dark and black magics, growing more and more powerful with each day.

He was searching for immortality. After living through the Second World War as a child, and surviving the bombing of London, Tom developed his only fear - the fear of death. He still dreamed of his orphanage sometimes, of himself, lying on the tattered cot of his steel creaking bed, listening closely to the numb silence that usually forestalled the blow of the fallen bomb, and the deafening rumble of the sirens, the breaking of glass in the windows, the screams. The orphanage got caught in the fire of one of the bombs one hot summer night and Tom, unable to use his wand, barely escaped a slow and painful death, jumping out of the blown out window of the last floor of the building. Only his magic saved him from breaking his spine in the fall. And yet he had to go back there again the next summer, and the next, simply because the headmaster Dippet never lived in the muggle world and had no idea what it was like to live in constant mortal peril, and Dumbledore kept whispering into his ear, always a helpful and just warrior of the Light that he was. Tom knew perfectly well that Dumbledore hoped he would die in the muggle London, as many unfortunate people had during the war.

Burdened by his terror he went deeper and deeper into the black magic looking for a key to eternal life. But there was no way of knowing for sure without performing the experiment. Tom found a way of feeding on one's life force and magical core through the blood binding and this was how he invented the first version of the dark mark. Abraxas was the one who offered himself as a test subject. The mark did give Tom more powers to overcome the aging process, but it took its tall on Abraxas' health. By the time he turned fifty he was almost a squib and his body began to decay, and no medicine could help him, for the mark was sucking him dry, preventing his core from healing his body. But the Malfoy patriarch never complained, his feelings towards Tom never faltered, on the contrary, they only grew. When Abraxas got seriously sick they couldn't be lovers anymore, for the constant pain he was going through was unbearable. By that time Tom had already modified the mark, having left the idea of a parasitic feeding on his followers a long time ago, seeing how futile it turned out to be. He managed to keep his youth, but still was mortal, so he continued his further research. When Tom went to Britain in the search of material he needed for his yet another experiment, the barely walking and breathing Abraxas offered his manor for his Lord to stay at. It was then Abraxas introduced him to the young heir of the Malfoy family, Lucius. Tom understood perfectly what his friend was offering him, he was giving him his son instead of himself, knowing that it was not months but only days until he would take his last breath. Later, in France, in his fortress, Tom met Abraxas for the last time to mark his son, who couldn't comprehend what his father had done to him - gave him up into slavery to a man that could never love him back. A month after the ceremony Tom got a posthumous letter from his first and most loyal friend, telling him goodbye.

Looking now at Lucius Tom could only smile sadly to himself. Although he wasn't capable of feeling guilt or remorse, or regret, he knew sadness very well and he did feel sad that Abraxas had to leave him so early, however, Lucius proved to be just as faithful and intelligent as his father. Tom didn't repeat his previous mistake and made it crystal clear from the very beginning for the new head of Malfoy family, that there could be no intimacy between them, only friendship. And Lucius proved to be a great friend. Tom thought that him raising up and moulding the young Lucius was the best way of repaying Abraxas for his loyalty and perfect service. And it was. In many years, in the future, Draco would take his father's place by his side and he would see that the boy grew up just the way he wanted him. Lucius knew that as well and accepted it without a word. _Like he had a choice, really._

"I will call the Inner Circle tomorrow, to discuss the developments in our plans," Tom told Lucius. They both sat in silence for some time, lost in their thoughts, their drinks finished long ago.

"Right," Lucius nodded, blinking at him sleepily.

"I need you to find every one of our people who works at the Ministry and tell them that no matter what position I took, no matter what I say in public, nothing has changed, our plans are set in motion and everything will go accordingly."

"Of course, Tom, don't worry about that," he nodded, now fully awake and sober, concentrated.

"I don't," Tom smiled at him, knowing all too well that he could rely on Lucius in this, and in everything else.

**_enigma_**

Monday morning at the Ministry greeted him with a tall stack of papers on his desk. After taking one look at them, Tom caught himself seriously considering to hire an assistant. All these papers were just a pile of bureaucratic shit, that needed to be checked, filled in, signed and redirected into another department. He had enough of that at the DMLE where he reduced the number of useless forms and passes and inquires to the minimum. However, as the Senior Undersecretary he had to look through the papers of all the eight departments with their countless offices and divisions, plus the Minister's papers all of which had to be filtered by the Senior Undersecretary before going to the Minister's desk. What was the secretary's or Wetherby's job for that matter was a mystery. No wonder nobody had seen Appius out of his office during the twelve years he'd held the position. _It is a miracle he lasted that long at all_, Tom snorted to himself and pushed the papers to the end of the desk. He will get himself a competent assistant and make him go through all this nonsense, otherwise Tom would grow a beard just as long as Dumbledore's by sitting here. _Somebody intelligent and reliable, nothing like Wetherby, Salazar spare me! Preferably one of my followers_, he mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully, scanning the names in his mind.

Barty Crouch Jr was just the man for the job. His senile father, Crouch Sr, would be happy to know that his rebellious scion found himself a proper job. Crouch had been the Head of DMLE before Tom, but held the position only for two years due to his harsh and unreasonable policies towards criminals and, especially, dark wizards. The question of why was he so adamant to wipe them from the face of the earth never seized to amuse Tom, taking into account the fact, that his wife and their only son were both dark wizards. Crouch was shortly demoted to the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, where his temper had cooled down a little. However, a year and a half ago he came up with this brilliant Triwizard Tournament idea and was once again tormenting the whole Ministry. Barty, who had been deprived of his father's attention and love for his whole life, found himself at Tom's side right after he graduated from Hogwarts. He left his ancestral pureblood 'Light' home and swore his loyalties to the dark. Nevertheless, the boy was intelligent and quite apt at the science of law, unlike his father, and Tom sent him to apprentice with one of the Malfoy's prominent solicitors, to study and develop his skills further. Barty was a slightly nervous, unconfident young man, shunned by his father for his whole life, but had a lot of patience and sturdiness to study and work hard. Nodding to himself, satisfied with his choice, Tom composed a letter for Crouch Jr and sent it with one of the ministry's owls. They would make this appointment official, so that Barty had a full access working here. While Tom would be away doing the real job that the Minister was supposed to do, Barty would sort out the papers and watch the Ministry from the inside. Yes, that was a very good plan.

Barty arrived on tuesday. Fudge was a little confused that Tom needed an assistant but only shrugged his shoulders at that, just as Tom knew he would. Barty was ecstatic at the prospect of working for Tom personally and doing his dirty work at the Ministry. Tom didn't have to explain anything, since Barty knew all the rules and laws even better then he did and the young man simply waved at him dismissively, immediately occupying his desk and digging energetically into the pile. Tom smiled at him and left, content that the work would be done the best way possible. The only order he gave Barty was to antagonize Wetherby at every possible opportunity, which Barty took enthusiastically. Tom also charmed two identical notebooks, through which they could exchange their correspondence in the present time, so that Barty could pass the urgent news the instant they arrived and Tom could send him the dates of appointments, names and any other information that needed to be stored for the further investigation. With that, Tom didn't need his office anymore and could easily roam the Ministry and control all the departments in person, just as he did at DMLE. He wasn't going to give them a chance to relax, now that they thought he would be buried under the paperwork at his office. While Minister spent his time drinking tea and giving out autographs, Tom would do all the real work that needed to be done. First, he needed to go through the files of every employee of every department, in order to clean up the ranks, get rid of the weak links. This was going to be a long and tiring task, but it was necessary and it was worth the trouble.

**_enigma_**

It was two weeks into august and only a day until the main sportive event of the year would take it's place - the Qudditch World Cup championship. Fudge, just like a five year old, had been running around the Ministry in excitement and making bets during the whole day, and Tom had to walk carefully, close to the walls, to not cross the path of a rolling ball of red flesh in a bowler hat. When Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, also a famous and fortuneless gambler, approached him during lunch, Tom had to cast a notice-me-not charm on himself - he was, probably, the only one at the Ministry who never betted. Later, in the evening, Lucius came to pick Tom up and take him to the stadium, specifically built for the upcoming match. They needed to make the last preparations and meet the others to give out the last orders. The crowds of spectators would be arriving at the early morning and there had already been a camp set up by those who wished to stay the night. Portkeying close to the camp, they went into Lucius' personal tent and hadn't come out until the next day.

**_enigma_**

"Tom!" Draco's high-pitched voice could never be mistaken with anybody's else. The small frame collided into his tall body, and the thin arms squeezed his middle.

"Draco, I think you are forgetting yourself. To think that the Malfoy heir demonstrates his emotions in public," Tom drawled mockingly, putting his hands on the broad shoulders of the teen.

Draco only glared at him, but didn't let go, "I barely saw you during this summer! Let me have my moment," the boy pushed his chin against Tom's chest and smiled at him mischievously.

Tom rolled his eyes and pushed Draco away, "Brat, let me go, or I will crucio you into oblivion."

Draco complied, grumping under his long upturned nose. The two of them walked past the tents in the direction of the stadium, Draco, holding his head high, showing off next to the imposing Senior Undersecretary. They met Lucius and Narcissa at the entrance and, after having their tickets checked, went up the stairs to the Minister's lodge.

Sitting down, Tom looked around, taking in everyone in the close vicinity. The Weasleys. He was prepared to groan but Draco did that for him. "What are those weasels doing here at the Minister's lodge?! Have they sold their house to afford the tickets?" Tom knew that Wetherby would be coming along with the Minister, but he never deemed it necessary to check who else got the tickets into their lodge. Pursing his lips, Tom nodded at Arthur, who had turned to greet him, cheerful as ever. His three youngest sons sat next to him, glaring at Draco, who was scowling back. Now if only the brats could behave and hold their hands in their pockets. Children always gave him headaches. Narcissa patted him on his hand sympathetically - she easily read him in such situations and knew when to show her support. She was a very pleasant and smart woman, the only sane member of the Black family and Tom enjoyed her company. She was a perfect wife for Lucius, if only a little bit too lenient towards Draco, always fussing over him. Tom gave her a grateful look and got a small smile in return.

That very moment Fudge's sweating form appeared at the entrance of the lodge. He was followed by the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, who was looking at the man with empty eyes, clearly not registering a word he was saying. Tom smirked at them. Two days before that he met the foreign Minister and they had a nice long talk, discussing all the last details of the event. The man spoke english very well, but after the first encounter with Fudge admitted to Tom that he couldn't stand the man's constant chatter. Tom suggested he should pretend to not speak or understand english at all and it worked perfectly. After a few useless tries of introducing the Bulgarian minister to everybody present, Fudge gave up and left the man in peace, and attacked Arthur instead, to everybody's relief. Wetherby edged his way past Tom trying as hard as possible to be invisible, but Tom didn't miss his chance to throw the boy an intimidating glare. The redhead gulped, fell into his seat and froze, afraid to breathe. Satisfied, Tom turned to the field just in time when Bagman stood up in his commentary booth to welcome the audience and introduce the competing national teams: England vs Bulgaria. Tom tuned him out, accessing the cheering crowd in the tribunes with his cold piercing eyes. There were roughly 10,000 people, enough to witness their coming out tonight.

Tom didn't pay any attention to the game, flipping through his charmed notebook instead, reading the last messages Barty left for him, writing his own notes next to them. He would be going to Hogwarts on the 1st of september to have a talk with Dumbledore regarding the accommodations for the foreign students that were to arrive before halloween. Fudge, as Tom predicted, dumped all the work on him, clearly not at all interested in the tournament. In fact, Fudge didn't want it be held at all, but Crouch got an unexpected support from Dumbledore, and when the old coot wanted something done, he got it done regardless of anybody's opinion. So Fudge simply told Tom to take it into his own hands and do whatever he wished, to call him only when there would be the closing ceremony so that he could pass the prize to the winner in front of the cameras. _Most fortunate_.

**_enigma_**

The loud booming of the ecstatic crowd told Tom that the match was over. _Finally_. He stood up and accompanied the Malfoys down the stairs, when he heard Draco bickering with the youngest Weasley boy. He turned to the sound and glared at the two of them and they immediately shut up. Jerking his head for Draco to go ahead, Tom brushed past the cowering redheaded boy, whose name he, of course, didn't know. Draco was once again grumping under his nose and Tom rolled his eyes at the teen - something had to be done with that temper. He had to stop abruptly, not to collide into the boy, when they were already at the exit, for Draco was frozen in his place and was glaring at somebody in the crowd.

"Draco, move your hide or I will make you," Tom growled lowly, tired of his antics. But Draco didn't hear him.

"Tenebris! The hell are you doing here, you mudblood?" Draco shouted at somebody, who was still invisible in the exiting crowd. Lucius quickly came to their side and dragged Draco out, glaring at him angrily. Tom only raised his eyebrows at that. _Children_, he sneered.

"Draco! Language! And what is this, shouting, swearing?! Have you forgotten yourself?" Lucius hissed at him menacingly, looking composed and bored outwardly, but clearly fuming inside.

"But father! That bloody Tenebris is here! At the match!" Draco whined, pointing at the person at the exit. Tom turned his head and finally saw the reason of the Malfoy's hysteria. It was an ordinary teenager, just like Draco. He was of an average height, thin, with long black messy hair reaching to his shoulders. His face was pale, with a soft feminine features that were quite aristocratic and he vaguely reminded Tom of somebody. The boy's big bright green eyes met his and Tom caught a flicker of something indecipherable in them, but before he could decide what it was, the boy hastily turned away and retreated into the midst of the crowd. He didn't look like a mudblood at all, his clothes were not expensive but were new and quite ordinary. All in all, despite the magnificent eyes the boy was very plain, nothing special. What was Draco's problem? Tom turned his head back to Malfoys only to see the same confusion in Lucius' expression: he also didn't find anything specific about the boy. He grabbed Draco by the collar of his robes and dragged him to their tent. Tom shook off the strange feeling he got from the mysterious Tenebris and went to the Minister's tent to fulfill his duties.

It was ten o'clock in the evening, when the sudden screams pierced the cool night air and all the people in the camp ran out of their tents to see what was going on. They met the sight of a large group of wizards dressed in black robes and white skull-masks, setting the tents on fire. The panic broke out almost instantly. Disoriented and frightened, people ran into the woods not far from the stadium, leaving their belongings behind to be consumed by the flames. The masked men spread out into the camp and attacked the wizards and witches who were not fast enough to escape. Some were tortured, some were simply killed. The screams died out in a few minutes, when the fire spread out and reached the stadium. The few aurors that were stationed by the camp couldn't fight the intruders, trying to save those who were trapped in the burning tents. One of the masked men threw his hand in the air and waving his wand shouted "Morsmordre!" And as suddenly as they appeared, the black cladded wizards vanished into the thin air.

**_enigma_**

_'THE MURDERING FINAL OF THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP' Yesterday at approximately ten o'oclock in the evening the camp beside the Quidditch Stadium was attacked by the group of the unknown wizards dressed in black robes, wearing white masks, that looked like skulls, as some of the witnesses described them. The intruders set the tents on fire and assaulted the people who were trying to escape them. The aurors who investigated the crime scene reported that 11 people were killed, all of them muggleborn wizards and witches and their muggle relatives, 5 muggleborns were severely tortured and are now stationed at St Mungo's, 3 muggles were also tortured. 17 different wizards and witches with different degrees of burns are stationed at S Mungo's intensive therapy ward. The DMLE doesn't have any information regarding who and why attacked the innocent spectators. However, the witnesses that were hiding in the woods nearby informed us that the group of intruders left a magical signature in the air behind them. 'The Death Mark' as they called it, that looked like a black skull with a snake coming out of its open jaws. Our reporters were unable to take a picture of the mark, since the auror squad had destroyed it. However, one of the young fans of the english team brought his camera into the Daily Prophet headquarters where we were able to develop the photographs of the horrible event that the young man was able to take. You can see the photograph of the Death Mark below the article. One of our anonymous sources also reported that the masked intruders left a message on one of the maimed bodies of the killed muggleborns. The text of the message, cut on the skin, went as 'sit flammis de mortem devoret sordibus' which gave one of our reporters an idea to how the intruders might be called - the 'Death Eaters'. __The Senior Undersecretary Riddle, who had been present during the attack, gave us his short comment: "What happened here yesterday is a great tragedy and a low blow to the british law enforcement. Why there were only a few aurors on duty at the event of such a great scale is a good question, which we should ask madame Bones, the current Head of the DMLE. I would like to express my deep regret and present our apologies on behalf of the Ministry of Magic to the families of the victims who suffered or died in the course of the attack. I would personally supervise the investigation and do everything in my power to find and punish the ones responsible for this horrible crime." The Daily Prophet team promises to publish any updates on the matter and asks everybody who has any additional information about the attack to contact us._

Lucius folded the newspaper and scowled at it, "The Death Eaters? Really?" he exclaimed incredulously, dropping the paper hard on the desk.

"Shows how good our education is today if they can't even translate a simple phrase correctly," Tom growled out in disgust. Really, how hard it was to translate that right? _'Let the flames of death devour the filth_' - how on earth did they come up with the Death Eaters?

The two of them were in Tom's office while Barty was fighting off the ever persistent reporters behind the closed door.

"Well, despite this... ah, little misunderstanding, I think it went well. And Barty did a good job with a photograph," Lucius picked up and unfolded the issue once again to look at the moving picture of the mark, soaring high in the sky, lit by the burning tents beneath it.

"Yes, they would soon connect the dots and realize that only the muggleborns and muggles were targeted. And, I hope, they would conclude without my help, that we have nothing against the wizards, only muggles," Tom nodded. However, he had a feeling he would have to say this all outright, otherwise these dimwits would understand it the wrong way, like the blasted Death Eaters nickname, for Merlin's sake! He covered his eyes with his hand and rubbed them tiredly. Idiots, he was surrounded by the whole world of idiots.

"Well, we should spread posters and leaflets next time, at the Tournament, saying in big letters, in english, that we are The Dark Army," Lucius drawled sarcastically, "I just hope this atrocious nickname wouldn't stick."

"You can make a bet with Bagman," Tom hissed, irritated. This was stupid, but that bloody misunderstanding annoyed him to no end.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related. I simply borrow the characters and twist the stories._

_A/N: this is an AU Tom Riddle's story, so please beware that canon is severely neglected sometimes. For the greater good._

- normal speech

_- inner thoughts_

**- parseltongue**

* * *

The Welcoming Feast at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was as boring as the previous year, and the year before that, and the year before that... Caligo sat at the Gryffindor table staring dumbly at his empty golden plate. It was his fourth year at the school, his first day here after the summer holidays and he was already bored. The news of the upcoming Triwizard Tournament didn't bring him any joy or excitement, however, his house peers were all but dying in anticipation, discussing it loudly, waving their arms energetically. Caligo looked around impassively and caught the pale blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore boring into his. The headmaster had always treated Caligo differently from the others, and always, always watched him intently, curiously during the meals at the hall. He, probably, knew that Caligo used to be Harry Potter in his previous very short life. Perhaps, he looked a lot like his father, James Potter? He didn't know, he didn't remember him, nor did he remember his mother Lily. All he knew were their names, that he found in one of the history books.

His life as Harry Potter lasted approximately one year and three months, until both his parents were killed on the halloween night of 1981. The killer was his godfather, Sirius Back, who was kissed by a dementor shortly after his arrest in the beginning of november of the same year. There was no actual reason for his crime - he simply lost his mind. The Black family was famous for its inbreeding curse that affected most members of the family. Sirius' parents were very close blood relatives, cousins, and thus, their elder son was born a healthy looking, even beautiful, boy but with serious mental problems, which only worsened with age. The muggle Child Services placed Harry with his only family that was left - the Dursleys, who had a blood relation to Lily, as he found out later. However, his relatives didn't want him and simply left him at the orphanage in the poor industrial district of London. They didn't leave any kind of information about his name or parentage, he simply lay on the cold stone steps, wrapped into the morning's newspaper issue. One of the caretakers, who found him crying on the porch, looked everywhere on his clothes, but didn't find any name or initials. There was an article under a bold headline in the newspaper, about the newly discovered statue of the famous roman emperor Caligula. The woman, having no other choice, or, perhaps, imagination, named him after the emperor and gave him the name of the Orphanage's saint patron. Harry Potter ceased to be, being replaced by Caligo (that was her mild variant of the name that had a questionable reputation) Lincoln.

Of course he was a victim of mocking and beatings at the orphanage because of his name. He used to cry and pity himself at first, but he stopped when he realized that it wouldn't help. Being naturally an intelligent and curious child, Caligo starved for knowledge and spent most of his time engrossed in the books, hidden away from the loud annoying children. When he was around five years old his accidental magic manifested itself in series of different strange occurrences. He could move the objects around him, or grow his hair by the power of his will; he could vanish into the thin air only to appear somewhere else; he could make flowers bloom or die; his bruises and cuts healed on their own, without any help. Caligo was fascinated with his 'powers', which, unfortunately, made him a more frequent target for beatings. He was called a "freak" and was treated accordingly. The cruel children even left him a constant reminder in a form of ugly scars on the skin of his lower back. FREAK was carved there in a big clear letters. It made Caligo wonder if there was any justice in the world and what had he done to deserve this.

He was seven when his life had taken yet another sharp turn. One day, looking for some peace and quiet away from the children, Caligo wandered beyond and far away from the high fence that surrounded the orphanage. He was walking by the edge of the small field that lay not far from the fence when he saw a big old maple tree in the middle of it, with its mighty fronds spread wide, casting the deep cool shadows on the ground beneath them. He knew he found a perfect place to hide and spend his time. However, he wasn't the only one who enjoyed the seclusion of the shadows. That was the day he met Noctis, the vampire. Of course, he didn't know he was a vampire when he saw him. Noctis was a very thin and a very pale looking man, around forty, he had a round open face, his hair were black and cut short. All in all he looked like an ordinary person who had been sick for a while. The only disconcerting feature he had was a pair of golden eyes, that were not very kind but hungry. Noctis had smelled Caligo's non-muggle blood and didn't attack at first, wary of his accidental magic. He decided to talk to him instead. They discussed many different things, mostly Noctis was interested in Caligo and his 'powers'. Caligo knew perfectly to never trust adults, but something about Noctis made him open up to the man. Perhaps, it happened simply because the vampire was the only one who ever listened? They met a few times more after that, and one day, standing under the tree, watching the rain that was pouring since very morning, Noctis asked Caligo if he believed in magic. Caligo wasn't stupid, he knew that magic didn't exist, however, after considering his answer for a long time, he admitted that he didn't know. His 'powers' weren't normal and some of them did seem to be 'magical'. Then Noctis asked if he believed in vampires. Caligo was fast to make the right conclusion. But he didn't run - his curiosity got the better of him. He said 'yes' and asked Noctis to show him. He was bitten, sucked dry and turned that day. Noctis hid him in the cellar of the orphanage and took care of him during the first days of his 'transformation'. He explained to Caligo, that he would grow until he reached maturity, that he would be able to walk in the sun, because Noctis was one of the Ancient vampires and was also magical and his blood gave Caligo all his powers. Unfortunately, Caligo had to drink human blood to survive and Noctis spent almost a month teaching him to hunt and suck blood of humans without killing them. When Caligo was strong and knowledgable enough to live on his own, Noctis put a strong glamour on his eyes, to make them look green again, instead of golden, and on his fangs to hide them, and left him, telling him that they would meet some day. Caligo never saw him again and was wandering until this very day, why had Noctis ever come to the orphanage, why had he spent so much time on acquiring with him and than teaching him if he left him alone afterwards.

But the changes in his life didn't stop at that. After almost a year spent as a vampire, Caligo, unexpectedly, got adopted. Walking in the neighborhood one day, looking for another homeless man to hunt down and feed on, Caligo was met by a strange old woman, who distantly reminded him of the picture of the witches in one of the fairy tales books. Her gaze was so intense he wanted to cower under it, but stood proud and tall. The woman, he didn't know how, knew he was a vampire and a wizard. She asked what his name was and where he lived. He told her and she walked with him back to the orphanage. Once there, she told him she was a witch and she wanted to take him in and raise him as a decent wizard he should be. Since she knew both his secrets, he decided it would be better to go with her, then stay and suffer from hunger. Thus, Artemida Tenebris became his adoptive mother, and he became Caligo Tenebris. Artemida was a pureblood witch of a french origin but lived on a secluded island in Ireland, which was occupied by a small magical town, hidden from the muggles. The closed community had no preferences in blood or parentage and accepted everybody, unless they intended to harm the inhabitants of the town. Artemida taught him everything about the wizarding world and the pureblood traditions and history, potions, astronomy, runes and herbology. She taught him to brew the blood replacing potion he could drink instead of feeding on humans. It wasn't the best substitute but it allowed him to fight his hunger and hunt less. They also brew a paternal potion, since she was curious to know of his origins. Thus, they found out he was a Potter. But thinking it over, Caligo decided it wasn't him anymore. Whoever Harry Potter was, he was dead - he, Caligo, was a completely different person and a vampire. Artemida was all too happy with his choice and they never spoke of his true parentage or his previous name ever again.

Artemida proved to be a very good guardian, a friend. She was strict, but just, short tempered but forgiving. And Caligo didn't give her many reasons to scold him. He was grateful to her for adopting him and caring for him, for nobody ever did, except Noctis, of course. Artemida was a dark witch and she taught him that there was no 'good' or 'evil', no black or white in this world. And since he was a vampire, his magic also became dark. She insisted he had to learn both light and dark magic to be able to hide among the wizards, not to attract any unwanted attention. However, she let Caligo visit Knockturne Alley a few times, where he could watch the vampires and learn to decipher them and learn to avoid them at all costs. He wasn't afraid for his life, since vampires had no interest in killing their own, but, and he had a hard time admitting it to himself, he was afraid to meet Noctis. He read about vampires in the many books that Artemida had in her huge library at home, and every text told him that Noctis was his Sire and Caligo had no choice but to submit to him, should he one day come to take what was his. And that prospect unnerved Caligo greatly, for he could never go into submission, it was against his very existence. Disgusted, he vowed to himself that he would never forgive Noctis and would never become his slave.

When he turned eleven, he got a letter from Hogwarts, that was addressed to, surprisingly, Caligo Tenebris and not Harry Potter, as Artemida at first feared. They decided it was safe to attend the school. However, Caligo had read a lot about the Hogwarts, the dark and the light wizards, the dark creatures, the prejudices and the rivalries and he decided that he needed a cover, since vampires were actually outlaws. Artemida taught him to apply glamours on his eyes and teeth. He had to make a habit out of eating the human food to not look suspicious, though his thin frame couldn't be improved anymore. And he needed to be as less noticeable as possible.

Once at Hogwarts Sorting, he asked the Hat to place him in Gryffindor. It was confused by his choice, since he was clearly a slytherin or at least a ravenclaw, but Caligo was adamant. He needed to be sorted into a house where nobody would suspect him of being the dark creature. And the Hat, reluctantly, complied. However, Albus Dumbledore had, apparently, a very good memory - the flash of recognition in his eyes when he saw him told Caligo that much. And since the sorting and until today the headmaster kept silently watching him, clearly waiting for something.

Caligo tried very hard to be invisible. He wore very ordinary clothes, though Artemida could afford dressing him like a king; he kept his marks at the average level, so that he didn't stand out; he hadn't made any friends whatsoever, ignoring everybody who tried to get acquainted with him. The only person who kept ruining his plans and was constantly present in his life was Draco Malfoy, who decided that Caligo was a muggleborn, since it was known that he was adopted out of the orphanage, and who decided to make it his hobby to bait and disturb Caligo every day, even going as far as hexing him in the corridors. The never ending vampire hunger taught Caligo patience and he kept ignoring the blonde menace, though it was becoming harder with every passing day.

**_enigma_**

And so he was sitting and staring at his empty plate and waiting for the feast to end. While his peers cheered the upcoming Tournament, he thought back on the attack at the World Cup, where he went simply because the children from his magical town dragged him along, and Artemida thought it would do him good - be sociable once in a while. Unlike the newspaper's editors, Caligo had understood the message crystal clear: the mysterious masked men were after the muggleborns, and were playing on the pureblood's hatred of the impure breeding between wizards and muggles. They wanted to eliminate the 'filth' that was leading the wizarding world to the destruction. Caligo's adoptive mother had explained that to him, referring to the many researches that had been done on that matter, and mentioning a french dark wizards' party of the Knights of Walpurgis to him, whose goals included seclusion and separation of the magical world from the muggle's. Caligo, for his part, having grown up amongst the lowest kind of muggles, agreed with those ideas, although he knew his biological mother was a muggleborn herself. However, after him becoming a vampire, his blood lost any kind of purity there could be, so he didn't really care for his origins. What he cared about was that the attack at the Cup had been the most exciting event in his dull life so far and he found himself fidgeting in anticipation every morning, looking hungrily for the owl to arrive with the latest issue of Daily Prophet in its claws.

What's more, he saw the new Senior Undersecretary in person for the first time in his life and couldn't get rid of the strange feeling the man gave him. Those intense, piercing teal eyes practically skinned him that day at the stadium exit. Mr Riddle radiated power and darkness, danger. And due to his unique magical abilities that he inherited from Noctis, Caligo could tell that the Undersecretary was hiding his true nature just like he, Caligo, himself did. And he hid it very well, under the glamours and a well created façade of a politician. He certainly wasn't a vampire, but something about him was off.

**_enigma_**

It was halloween and Caligo was slowly walking to the Great Hall. He had spent the day at the library, as he usually spend all his days during his time at the school, and was planning to be impossibly tardy to the main event, for he had no interest in champions whatsoever. He was fourteen and couldn't participate even if he wanted, though, he, of course, did not. The Tournament was a cruel joke, the way he saw it. Who would want to risk their life for some useless cup and a thousand galleons? Someone like Ron Weasley might, though. Caligo sneered at the thought of his redheaded classmate who was the epitome of the worst kind of a wizard who embraced the muggle culture. Schooling his face into a mask of indifference, Caligo entered the hall and sat down at the gryffindor's table, unnoticed.

However, the pair of cold teal eyes didn't miss his appearance. Tom sat at the Head Table next to Karkaroff and madame Maxime, the headmasters of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons magical schools that were participating in the Tournament. He tuned out yet another long speech that was coming out of the Dumbledore's mouth and was watching the student body impassively, roaming his eyes lazily over the many innocent and stupid faces. He was the only one who noticed the doors being slightly opened and the slim dark figure squeezing itself through them. Taking a closer look he realized that it was the very same teen he met at the stadium, the object of Draco's insufferable antics, Caligo Tenebris. The strange quiet boy with a very unusual name. He soundlessly slid to the gryffindor table and immediately buried his face in the book, looking bored. The teen was clearly in the wrong house. Tom narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. Something about this Tenebris was off. And where did he know this name from? He used to know a french pureblood Tenebris family, all the members of which had died in the fire, during one of muggle riots against their government almost thirty years ago. It was truly a horrible and a stupid way to die, especially for powerful wizards and witches that Tenebrises were. Could the boy be the child of one of the survivors? Tom hadn't heard anything about the youngest member of the family, Artemida. Perhaps, she got luckier than her relatives? He made a note for Barty to look into Artemida and Caligo Tenebris files, if any existed.

"Now, the Goblet of Fire would tell us the names of this year champions of the Triwizard Tournament!" Tom heard Dumbledore exclaim and turned his head to look at the wooden cup that burst into the blue flames, setting the hall into the dead silence. Tom rolled his eyes and sighed. They really needed to get it over with faster or he would die of boredom right here right now, or, perhaps, he would start killing, he couldn't really decide. The flames grew higher and with a burst of sparkles a small piece of parchment flew out and right into Dumbledore's hands.

"The Durmstrang champion is Victor Krum!" he said loudly and to the deafening sound of applause and cheering the tall stocky boy passed by their table and disappeared behind the door on the farther left. Karkaroff clapped enthusiastically, smiling smugly at the Hogwarts' students. Of course, if you put only one name out of the whole group of the candidates into the Goblet, it would throw it out as the only possible variant. Tom twisted his mouth in disdain. Karkaroff was a slimy, greedy coward who never played fair. Not that Tom could say that he himself did, but Karkaroff surpassed him in that field. Fortunately for Tom and unfortunately for Karkaroff, he was his follower and servant, so he wouldn't get the chance to get a big head during this tournament. Tom would see to that.

"The Beauxbatons champion is Fleur Delacour!" the second parchment flew out of the Goblet and a tall fair headed girl, who was a half veela, judging by the hungry looks of the male part of the student body, glided past them looking for all the world, with her head high and her back perfectly straight. _Show off_. Tom sighed and looked at his fingernails. _Why do these mundane things always take so bloody long?_

"The Hogwarts champion is Ronald Weasley!" Tom's head shot up at that and he stared at Dumbledore in bewilderment. The boy was only fourteen, he couldn't participate, besides, he was a Weasley! Surely, this was a mistake. But the old coot only smiled and beckoned the flabbergasted redhead to come closer. The gryffindor table was ready to blow up in excitement and noise of their loud cheering and screaming. Karkaroff and Maxime stood up and stormed off into the champion's chamber, where their students were waiting for them, both enraged. Crouch and Bagman only shrugged their shoulders at that and followed the pair. Dumbledore gently stirred the still shocked freckled teen by the arm in the direction of the chamber, smiling all the way. Tom only snorted at that. However, when he stood up to follow them, the Goblet became active once again, and the blue flames threw out another piece of parchment. Catching it with his fingers, Tom unfolded it, curious to see what was it now. His eyebrows went up as he read the name, but before he could say anything, Dumbledore tore the paper out of his hands and read it, the satisfaction clearly showed on his old wrinkled face.

"Dear students, it seems that the Goblet chose the fourth champion! And it is Caligo Tenebris!" he cheerfully exclaimed and the loud crowd instantly went numb. Tom turned to see that the boy in question. Tenebris hadn't been, apparently, paying attention and didn't register his name being called. Only when one of the gryffindors hit him on his arm did he look up to see all the eyes trained on his thin form. To his credit, he didn't even flinch.

"Caligo, come here," Dumbledore called for him, all but shaking in excitement. Tom's eyes narrowed. _Just what is the old goat up to?_

**_enigma_**

Caligo knew something was bound to happen. The Fate just wouldn't leave him in peace for so long for nothing. Of course, it was the bloody Tournament. He didn't doubt for a second that it was Dumbledore who put his name and, apparently, Weasley's, into the Goblet. Who else could trespass the wards that he himself set up? Weasley, he could understand, the redhead came from the Lightest family that could be found, was a muggle-lover and, probably, was seen as the future icon of the Light. But he, Caligo Tenebris, why was the headmaster interested in him of all people? Was he testing him? Was he trying to make Caligo come out and admit his dark creature nature? What was the headmaster's benefit in that? Caligo was at loss, he couldn't find any good enough explanation. And to add to that, when he approached the Head Table, he was once again pierced by those hard teal eyes of one Tom Riddle. Caligo inwardly sighed. This was getting better and better.

He entered the champion's chamber, followed by gaping Ron, smiling headmaster and a bored Undersecretary.

"What is the meaning of this? We can't have underage student compete! The two of them! From one school! I demand redrawing!" Karkaroff attacked Dumbledore and Tom retreated into the shadows to watch the show. Surprisingly, Tenebris did just the same. They both stood to the side of the arguing group, both watching them with masks of boredom on their faces. Tom felt intrigued.

"Calm down, please, calm dow," Dumbledore tried to placate them, flashing his grandfatherly smiles, "This is most unfortunate but according to the rules we can't change anything, we must proceed with what we have."

"What do you mean we can't change anything? How can these children compete?" Maxime roared, towering over the old headmaster with all her half-giant's mighty height.

"The champions are bound by the magical contracts to the Goblet. They have to participate in the Tournament, otherwise, they would be stripped of their magic," Crouch piped in, looking very pleased with the promises of a horrible fate. Tom smirked at that. The man was crazy. Perhaps, he was jerking off at tormenting the others? _My, but he must have joined their cause then_.

"This is preposterous! Mr Riddle?!" Karkaroff turned to Tom, looking at him expectantly. Tom only shrugged and quirked his eyebrow at him.

"There is nothing we can do, if the children are bound by magic, they will have to compete. It is, of course, unfair that Hogwarts has two champions to compete, but look at it the other way: they are both minors, surely they won't stand a chance against your students," Tom drawled, glaring at Karkaroff warningly. The idiot had to back off, Tom wasn't going to meddle with the Goblet and old binding magic simply to indulge him in his whims.

"Well, then it is all settled!" Dumbledore clapped his hands, satisfied. "Ah, but we have to decide who would train our champions," with that he looked pointedly at Tom. Karkaroff and Maxime grabbed their students by the shoulders and glared at the old man angrily. So it was him and the old goat who had to patronize the Hogwarts champions. Tom looked at Tenebris, who was inspecting his shoes, with his head hanging low, and at the redhead, whose face almost merged into his hair in its colour. _No, no, not another Weasley!_ Tom inwardly cringed and swiftly stepped next to Tenebris. "I'll take this one", he said out loud and sent Dimbledore a cold glare. The disappointment and irritation written all over the old coot's face made Tom almost dance in glee. So the goat was the one who put the boy's name into the goblet, and he planned to prepare him for the competition. If Dumbledore was so interested in the teen, then Tom needed to know everything about him and ruin the headmaster's plans, whatever they were, just for the gist of it. Tenebris gave him a perplexed look but smoothly put the blank mask back on his face. Weasley smiled at his headmaster in relief.

"The first task takes its place at the end of november, so you have plenty of time to prepare!" Bagman stepped forward, seeing that the storm had finally passed. Karkaroff sneered at him and left the chamber, dragging his champion behind him. Maxime haughtily waved her goodbyes at Dumbledore and Crouch and also left, her champion following her obediently. Crouch and Bagman occupied the old headmaster in a heated conversation regarding any changes in judging committee, due to the unexpected developments, while Weasley slumped down in the chair and stared blankly at the wall.

Tom sighed and glanced at his, now, ward. Tenebris was looking at him curiously, he could see the flash of interest in the green orbs. The boy looked so ordinary, why had Dumbledore gone to such length to bring him into the competition?

"So, Mr Tenebris," he drawled, watching the teen's face intently, "How did you trick the Goblet?" He knew perfectly well that the boy didn't but wanted to get a reaction from him nevertheless.

"I didn't," was the simple answer, "The headmaster did," Tenebris looked at him calmly, bored.

"Any idea why?" Tom raised his eyebrow at that. Even the teen knew Dumbledore was behind this.

"None. And that binding magic nonsense, is it true?" Caligo looked at the blank emotionless face of his new patron and felt shiver go down his spine. Riddle was very mysterious.

"Yes, it is," Tom said simply. What was the point of giving the teen a false hope? Besides, he could simply fail all the tasks, if he didn't want to compete, nobody was going to punish him for loosing. He heard Tenebris sigh.

"I see," Caligo knew that hoping was fruitless.

Dumbledore turned to them and after exchanging some encouraging words with both Caligo and Ron, he sent them to the Gryffindor tower. Crouch and Bagman left shortly after that. When Tom found himself alone with Dumbledore, he decided to test the waters.

"So what of this Tenebris? Had he done something to you, that you are sending him to face the inevitable death?" he drawled, watching the man carefully.

"I have no idea of what you are talking about," the headmaster smiled and glided out of the chamber.

Tom clenched his jaw in irritation. The old goat was playing a dangerous game. Nobody could fool Tom Riddle without paying for it afterwards. And the price was very high.

**_enigma_**

The gryffindor common room met them with a grave silence. When Caligo quietly moved to go to the dorm, everybody broke out into shouting simultaneously. "How did you two do it?" "Why haven't you told us, Ron?" "Oi, Tenebris, bet you going to die before the first task even begins!" "What is the first task?" "Ron, mate, just tell us what to do, we will help." Caligo didn't listen, he simply went up the stairs and into the dorm. After spelling the curtains of his bed shut and silenced, he climbed under the blanket and tiredly closed his eyes. The situation he got himself into was precarious. Thankfully, he had a stock of blood replacing potion at ready, he was certain that there wouldn't be an opportunity to brew it in the nearest future. But what of his powers? He would have to be very careful, perhaps, he should just fail all the tasks right from the beginning? Simply gain zero points for each by not drawing his wand at all? The prospect of being discovered as a vampire terrified him, for he would be instantly executed without a trial, given the aggravating fact of his presence at the school full of children. The policy towards the dark creatures was simple: extermination. The werewolves were allowed to live in packs in secluded areas under a close supervision - one wrong step and they would be dead. Vampires were to die no matter what. Caligo heard that during the last eight years some people were trying to change the legislation regarding the rights of the dark creatures, but no results had been achieved. It all was kept behind the closed doors and nobody dared to voice one's opinion on the matter. Caligo sighed and opened his eyes to look at the ceiling. He once asked Artemida why wasn't she afraid of him, why did she adopt a vampire child. "Because you are not a monster, Caligo, you are not an animal. You are a wizard, a human being. Yes, you have to drink blood to live, but believe me when I say, that there are much worse things that a person can do. You are not a murderer. You mustn't fight your nature, you must embrace it - only then will you find peace." He often repeated these words in his mind, trying to sooth the constant pain that he felt in his heart, that had stopped beating forever. Yet it still was capable of feeling. P_erhaps, it wasn't dead, it simply had no reason to go on?_ He squeezed his eyes shut. _What would become of him?_

The next morning he sent a letter to Artemida, telling her about everything that happened. He got only a few words in reply: "Be careful, Caligo. Don't trust Riddle." He figured as much.

**_enigma_**

It was the middle of november and Tom was riding a lift to the fourth level, to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He had been postponing this visit as long as he could, but this morning Barty almost pushed him out of the office, saying that if he wouldn't go and get it over with now, there would be so much paperwork, that he would die under its weight and stupidity and Barty wouldn't be the one to dig him out. Barely restraining himself from cursing his assistant, Tom, reluctantly, complied, growling on his way to the lifts. As much as they tried in the past, there was little they could do to at least modify the legislation of the rights of the dark creatures. Tom wasn't a big fan of vampires and werewolves, but they were as dark as he was, and they were people nevertheless, so in his eyes they deserved to have the same rights as everybody else. Besides, they were powerful and could be useful allies in the war, should he start it, but he couldn't sway them to his side without giving anything in return. Many of them were wizards, who fell victims to the unfortunate circumstances, and had to endure hatred and fear from their own friends and families. It was a grave injustice on the part of the Ministry of Magic, and quite hypocritical, Tom thought.

In France he had managed to create a contract between vampires and wizards, according to which bloodsuckers were allowed the same rights on the conditions that they would not feed on their own people, would live in the secluded supervised areas and would use the blood replacing potions, which their government would provide them with. It's been fifteen years since they signed the contract and during this time only a few vampires were ever arrested and executed after the trial. All in all the french wizarding community embraced the vampires and learnt to co-exist with them in peace. To use the same scheme here in Britain was impossible. That is why many vampire-wizards moved out of the country permanently, taking their families, money, powers and influence with them.

Werewolves had to survive in camps, that reminded Tom of the nazi concentration camps from the Secon World War. They lived and hunted behind the wards on small territories, that were clearly not enough for their ever growing population. Many werewolf-wizards were never registered at the Ministry and escaped into the muggle world, since they were not allowed to have jobs in the wizarding community. Some rebels formed a free pack that was immediately declared outlawed due to their constant attacks on the children, which, of course, didn't help the cause. All that the Knights of Walpurgis could do was to offer the werewolves a Wolfsbane potion, the genius invention of Tom's personal potions master Severus Snape, one of the few of his closest most valuable followers, who spied for him at Hogwarts. The potion was a success but hadn't improved werewolves' rights in the least. Giants and other creatures weren't that much of a problem, simply because they didn't need to live in a community and interact with other people to survive. But werewolves and vampires were the ministry's favourite raw spot.

Tom knocked and opened the door into the office of the Head of DRCMC, madame Umbridge 'the Toad', as Barty blandly called her. He dreaded to enter this office since the first time he had the pleasure to see it many years ago. It was the most atrocious place he had ever visited. The pink walls were covered with countless plates and saucers decorated with pictures of kittens, that were meowing loudly and annoyingly. Every piece of the furniture was covered with white and pink laced napkins. Instead of standard visitors chairs or sofas, there were several old plushy armchairs with huge acidly bright flowers printed on them. The Toad herself was seated behind the desk and was drinking her usual tea out of the small porcelain cup, that was also covered with blasted wailing kittens. She always wore horrible pink robes, and there was a permanent sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face. Tom couldn't help but wince at the sight.

"Mr Riddle, what a surprise! Come in, come in!" she cried, standing up. Her girlish high-pitched voice cut sharply on his ears.

"Madame Umbridge, good afternoon," he drawled and entered the office, closing the door behind him. He had to brace himself for this meeting, he thought, he already felt his hands itching for his wand.

"Please, sit, make yourself at home. Tea?" She gave him an endearing smile and Tom felt sick. He gave her a curt nod in reply and sat down, slowly being devoured by the plushy mass of the armchair. The Toad conjured yet another kittened cup and poured the tea into it. She pushed the cup towards him and looked at him expectantly, smile never leaving her face. Perhaps, she was cursed and her facial muscles didn't work properly anymore. Tom politely brought the teacup to his lips and pretended to take a sip.

"Madame Umbridge, I came here today to-"

"Call me Dolores, please," she interrupted, buttering her eyelashes at him. _Salazar, give me patience._

"Dolores, as I said, I came here today to discuss the latest developments in the work of your department."

"Of course," she shifted in her chair, sitting straighter, and took on a business-like look. "So far, there had been no incidents in the Being division, none in the Spirit as well, the Beasts are as usual, a few trolls here and there," she sing-sang, flipping through the thick file, "And three vampires were captured near the Diagon Alley and executed last week," she finished with a smug smile. Tom put his cup down on the table and folded his hands in his lap.

"I see. That is what I wanted to talk about. I don't think that mindless killing without a trial helps the image of your department and our Ministry at all," he said, trying to sound grave.

"I do not favour the mindless killing, of course!" she cried. _Could have fooled me._ Tom only raised an eyebrow at her. "But, sir, you know the laws, those vile creatures do not deserve to have a trial. They are filthy animals!"

"They are people, Dolores, and I intend to help change the legislation and give them the rights to, at least, have a fair trial, to be provided with the blood replacing potion."

"This potion wouldn't cure them, wouldn't hold their hunger for long," her face was red, she was obviously angry. Tom could never understand hatred based on empty fears. However, he thought that Umbridge found pleasure in humiliating and eliminating those whom she thought to be beneath her. "And what does the Minister have to say about this?" Ah, yes, the Toad was blindly devoted to Fudge. It sickened Tom.

"The Minister has deputed the department's supervision to me and has nothing to say about it," Tom spat coldly, narrowing his eyes at her. She cowered a little behind her desk. "As you very well know, the foreign ministries have been working for years to accept vampires and werewolves into their communities. France is a perfect example of the possibility of co-existing peacefully. We can't stay behind, one day we will have to accept them and that day might very well turn into a civil war. If you wish to avoid the bloodshed, you need to act now," he glared at her. The Toad only squeaked. Tom pulled a file out of his inner pocket of the robe and dropped it on the desk.

"This," he tapped his long finger on the brown folder, "Is the outline of the bill you would present as the Head of the Department at the next Wizengamot session, which is in five days. It includes several amendments regarding the legislation of the rights of the dark creatures. I will be there, of course, so do well to present this at the best of your abilities."

"But, but..." she stammered, staring at him with wide eyes, her smile gone.

"No buts, Dolores," Tom hissed and the air in the room grew suddenly cold, all the kittens on the plates froze, silent. His face contorted with fury and she cowered under his icy glare. The Toad shivered and swallowed hard.

"You will present the bill. And make sure that the heads of all divisions of your department participated in the creation of it. I will know if you didn't," his voice was barely audible, though enough for her to hear. She nodded vehemently and pushed harder into her chair, seemingly trying to dissolve into it.

"Perfect," Tom said simply, momentarily schooling his face back to the mask of boredom, "Have a nice day, Dolores, see you in five days." He gracefully stood up, smoothed the non-existent wrinkles on his black robes and strode out of the office, leaving the pale, scared Umbridge behind.

**_enigma_**

Lucius concluded that it was a small victory, when they left the courtroom after the session five days later. But it was the evident progress, which was enough for Tom for now. The bill was presented just like Tom wanted, but, of course, was almost instantly rejected. After long and tiring debate they were not able to come to a compromise. Lucius called Severus to witness the positive effects of the Wolfsbane and blood replacing potions and give his insight on the possible developments of the formulas as the potions master and an expert. His expertise and a thorough report helped them to convince the members of Wizengamot to push ahead a research of the potions and the possibility of producing them for sale or as a hospital stock. Unforunately, Fudge presided over the session and wasn't at all enthusiastic to accept the bill that gave the vampires the right to have a fair trial before the execution. Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock, was also adamant to reject the bill, and Tom and Lucius had to use all their charm and skill of persuasion to make the bill pass. It helped, of course, that half of those who voted for it were bribed by Lucius the week before the session. Tom didn't understand why was Dumbledore so stubbornly against the vampires and the dark creatures in general, when he himself had let a werewolf to study at and graduate from Hogwarts years ago. It was a secret, of course, which Severus had told Tom, since he was the one who was attacked by the said werewolf at school and barely escaped death. Dmbledore's hypocrisy was suspicious and annoying. If he discovered that, say, one of his favourite students, gryffindors even, was a vampire, what would he do, Tom mused. Would the old goat execute him on the spot without a second thought? Or would he hide him? Dumbledore was unpredictable and therefore dangerous.

Tom took Lucius into his office to have a drink. Barty interrupted their small celebration by reminding his boss that he was to go to Hogwarts in three days to attend the Champion's dinner and the Weighing of the Wands, and supervise and judge the first task the day after that. Tom groaned, hiding his face in his hands. He completely forgot about the bloody Tournament and that he had a champion to 'train'. Barty only sighed at his antics and put a thin file on the desk before him and left. While Tom was rubbing his face and swearing under his breath, Lucius took the file and opened it, his face lightening up with curiosity.

"Barty brought you the file on Caligo Tenebris," he said, not looking at Tom, who glared at the file through his fingers.

"And what does it say?"

"He grew up in the muggle orphanage, no information is given on his parentage or blood status, nor on his real last name. He was eight when he was adopted by one Artemida Tenebris," Lucius pale grey eyes quickly scanned the pages, "Her whereabouts are unknown, however, her bank accounts are active. Tenebris..." he frowned in consideration, "Now that I think about it, wasn't there a pureblood family in France under this name? Isn't she supposed to be dead?"

"She is," Tom sat straighter behind the desk and looked at his friend thoughtfully, "Apparently, she either survived the fire thirty years ago, or wasn't even there in the first place. She's older than I am, she must be around 90 now. Why would she hide, though, her family supported us back then... What did you say, the boy grew up in the orphanage?" Tom rubbed his chin absentmindedly, looking at his friend blankly. Lucius knew what his Lord was thinking about. It wasn't a secret that Tom grew up in the muggle orphanage himself. Perhaps, the boy wasn't as ordinary as they at first thought?

"Yes. There is no more information about them. They probably live on the unplotted land or island. His marks at the school are average, he doesn't play quidditch, however, he took ancient runes and arithmacy as additional courses," Lucius told him, looking at Tom somewhat inquiringly.

"I had to, ah, prepare him for the first task and had to tell him what it is," Tom sounded tired and disappointed that he forgot about it all.

"Well, you said yourself, he doesn't seem to be that eager to participate. Let him fail the task," Lucius shrugged.

"Yes, perhaps I will," Tom said quietly. The fact that the boy grew up in the orphanage shouldn't have affected him so much, but it had. That was why he was so quiet and wore his masks so skillfully. He was a survivor, just like Tom, and knew perfectly well how hard life could be. His average marks didn't indicate the level of his intelligence. If his magic manifested itself early, then he would have surely learnt to hide his superiority from the others, and could continue to do so at the school as well. It was easy, for he wasn't sociable, that was obvious. _Perhaps, there is more to him than I originally thought._

**_enigma_**

Three days later Tom was walking down the spacious corridors of Hogwarts. Even though he graduated half a century ago, he still remembered the castle's layout perfectly. Every floor, every hidden corridor, every classroom, every secret passage - he knew it all so well, could recreate it in his mind precisely to the very last detail. While wearing a mask of indifference, he let his eyes roam over the many familiar portraits who were talking loudly to the passing students. It all brought back the many memories of his past, both good and bad.

He came to the old charms classroom where the Weighing of Wands was to be held. He entered quietly, finding everyone present, everyone except Weasley. _Tardiness runs in the family._ Tom's eyes immediately fell on the thin form of his ward, Caligo Tenebris, who stood as far away from the others as possible and was looking at the ceiling, obviously bored. Tom smirked, the boy seemed to be emotionless, perhaps, he was capable of completing the first task. Dumbledore called for everybody's attention and introduced Mr Ollivander, the wandmaker. Tom inwardly smiled, remembering his encounter with the creepy man almost sixty years ago. Ollivander told him that he was destined to do great things and he was the one who told Tom he was a dark wizard. The wandmaker turned to Tom and smiled at him mischievously, giving him a knowing look. Tom nodded, smirking. When Ollivander took Krum's wand for inspection, the doors to the classroom were suddenly opened with a loud bang and a crimson red Ron Weasley burst in, panting loudly, and almost collided with Dumbledore. The headmaster gave him a disapproving look and shook his head. Weasley became even redder. Tom rolled his eyes and gestured for frozen Ollivander to continue. After Krum's the wanmaker weighted Delacour's wand, then took Weasley's and had to hold it gingerly in his fingertips, since the wand was quite dirty and covered in something that had began to rot, if the smell was any indication of that. Ollivander gave Weasley a cold glare.

"Well, Mr Weasley, you should keep your wand in a better condition, otherwise it might not work when you most need it," the redhead hung his head in shame at that. "Nice wand nevertheless, 14" willow, unicorn hair, good for charms," Ollivander waved it in the air and whispered 'avis' and a flock of black birds escaped the wand's tip. He gave it back to Weasley, who hastily began to clean it with the hem of his robe, muttering under his breath that they had a herbology lesson before the Weighting.

"Ah, Mr Tenebris, only your wand is left," Ollivander beckoned Caligo closer, smiling at him kindly. Caligo slowly came up and passed him a long white wand, which Tom was eyeing curiously.

"Ah, this wand is not one of mine, but what a wonderful wand it is! 13" yew wood and a manticore hair, a very peculiar wand I must say," he smiled broadly and waving the wand whispered 'niger ignis' and a vicious black flame burst out of the wand making everyone take a few steps back, everyone except Caligo and Tom, who both knew that the flame wasn't hot but cold. That piqued Tom's curiosity even more. It was an old spell, that wasn't taught, the fact that the boy knew it made him think that, perhaps, Tenebris knew a little bit of dark magic as well, since this spell was classified as a basic dark one. Ollivander gently gave the wand back to Caligo and after bowing to everyone, quickly left.

"I would love to invite everyone to the Champion's dinner but you will have to wait just a little bit more," Dumbledore waved his hands cheerfully, "I promised the press that they would take the interviews now, rather then tomorrow when our competitors would be preoccupied with the task." At this words the doors burst open again and a crowd of reporters ran in, cameras flashing. Tom didn't have to turn his head to know that Rita Skeeter was walking straight towards him. Sighing, he came closer to Tenebris and gave him a pointed look, warning the brat that he should give a nice talk to the reporter. The teen, surprisingly, understood and quirked his eyebrow at Tom, as if saying he knew that already.

"Mr Riddle, how nice to see you again! Have I heard it right, do you really have to train one of the Hogwarts' champions?" she was chatting loudly, edging closer to him, trying to touch his arm.

"Ms Skeeter, it is a pleasure to see you too. As for Mr Tenebris here, yes, he is my ward during the Tournament but I am certain that he doesn't need any training," he gave her a false smile that she took as a sincere one, of course, and finally noticed the teen, who was looking somewhere else.

"Mr Tenebris, you are so young, it is hard to believe you are a champion! What are your thoughts on the Tournament? How did you trick the Goblet of Fire?" she watched Caligo with hungry eyes. He smiled at her wryly, trying not to sneer. His vampire senses were such a disadvantage sometimes, especially around people like Skeeter, who poured the whole bottle of perfume on her body it seemed.

"Very nice to meet you, Ms Skeeter. I would like to say that I never placed my name into the Goblet, since the Tournament is a very dangerous competition and I don't really like to put my life at risk," he gave her a sad innocent look. Skeeter looked ecstatic.

"Oh, but tell us your story, Mr Tenebris, you are such a mystery, and I can't help but notice that your comment is not very gryffindorish, don't you think?"

"Yes, I'm not the person who rushes into things before considering the consequences. You see, I grew up in a muggle orphanage and was severely abused by the children there, because of my magic," Caligo squeezed a lonely tear out of his eye and Tom inwardly applauded the boy's acting skills. Tenebris was becoming more and more interesting with every minute.

"Oh my! This is awful!" Skeeter cried, looking taken aback, vehemently writing in her notepad at the same time, clearly three times more words than he had said.

"But I was adopted when I was eight, by a wonderful Artemida Tenebris who gave me her name and taught me everything about the wizarding world - the place where I truly belong," Caligo said sadly and dropped his gaze down on his boots. He knew he was a good actor, how could he not be, when he had to lie constantly to all kinds of people to gain their trust and then suck their blood when they relaxed enough around him to lose their vigilance.

"Oh dear, what a truly sad story! But you must be really brave to go through such horror and still enjoy life in the world that abandoned you!" she stopped pretending to care and was almost talking to herself, already composing the heartbreaking story to publish this evening.

Both Caligo and Tom noticed that and slowly backed away. Skeeter, still lost in her notes, automatically turned and approached Dumbledore and Weasley. Caligo let out a sigh of relief.

"That teardrop was particularly amiable," Tom drawled, smirking at the teen, very pleased with the interview.

"Yes, well, this is what you wanted, didn't you, sir?" Caligo was wary of Riddle, since even Artemida had hinted that the man was dangerous.

"Yes, I did," Tom was watching him closely. Caligo's shoulders were a little tensed and his back was too straight for a teenager. Was he feeling nervous around him? _Only an idiot wouldn't_.

"Do you know what is the first task?" he finally asked his ward.

"Yes," Caligo said simply, "Dragons."

"Do you think you will manage?" Tom didn't really care how the teen knew what the task was. Less trouble for him.

"Well, it's not like you would actually train me, sir," Caligo smirked at Riddle, growing a little more confident, "But yes, I am ready."

"Well, this is exactly what I wanted to hear, for I, of course, wouldn't train you, you are right," Tom drawled, pleased. The teen was independent and could very well manage on his own, which was only fine with him, he wasn't a bloody baby-sitter. Draco was quite enough for him.

**_enigma_**

After taking a group photograph, the press left and Dumbledore led everybody to another classroom which was temporarily turned into a small dining room. Tom sat at the end of the table next to Caligo, who, he knew, wouldn't try to talk to him. And he was right. Caligo had no intention of talking at all. He very slowly ate his meal, forcing each little piece inside of his stomach that wasn't feeling well. He had troubles eating lately, drinking the blood replacing potion more often than usual. It meant that he had to feed on a human, at least once. His hunger was becoming unbearable. It was hard to concentrate on studying or eating when there were so many warm bodies around him. He could hear every heart beat in its own rhythm, could hear blood rushing through the veins, could see the blue faint lines on the soft skin of their necks. He dropped his gaze down on his plate. How would he feed? Perhaps, Hogsmead? There would be a lot of visitors to watch the Tournament, surely he could catch someone and take their blood in the shadows of one of the alleys. Yes, the next Hogsmead weekend would be right on the day of the first task. Caligo sighed sadly. He knew that one day the potion wouldn't be enough or him. As a vampire-wizard he needed human blood to feed his magical powers and potion couldn't replace that. He pushed his food around the plate a few times and, finally, it was time to leave. He stood up and, after politely bidding farewell to everyone and specifically to Riddle, he hastily left.

During the dinner Tom had been watching Tenebris out of the corner of his eye. The teen was very thin, and very pale, as if he had anemia, which was, of course, impossible, since he was a wizard. Tom saw a lot of children who suffered from anemia at the orphanage back in the war days - that was a poor sight. Tenebris barely ate, pushing his food around the plate, forcing himself to swallow it. He looked really sick and pathetic next to Weasley, who was hastily shoving the third serving into his mouth as if he wasn't fed for a week. Tenebris sat straight, looking composed and bored. Everything about him screamed of a pureblood. Tom was sure that Artemida wouldn't have taken in a mudblood, a half-blood perhaps. He knew Tenebris face looked familiar, he just couldn't put his finger on who did he look like. Not knowing always annoyed him. He heard the teen sigh and put the fork aside. Does he eat at all? Maybe he is suicidal and is waiting for the task to end his life? It was a possibility, why not, Tom mused. Everybody stood up, chatting, and Tenebris politely said his goodbye to him and left quickly, all but running out of the room. Tom only raised his eyebrows at that. He will have to talk with Tenebris, that is, if he survives the task tomorrow.

**_enigma_**

The day of the task greeted the crowd of spectators, who gathered at the quidditch pitch, with a heavy showering rain, that started early in the morning and didn't seem to be ending soon. Caligo stood in the tent next to Weasley, Delacour and Krum - the three of them were fidgeting nervously. Caligo didn't understand why were they worrying so if they knew what the task would be all along and had plenty of time to prepare. Unlike Weasley, who was actually trained by Flitwick and Dumbledore and knew about the dragons from their grounds keeper Hagrid, Caligo didn't do anything. He found out about the dragons by accident. Since his second year at Hogwarts, Caligo began taking night walks in the Forbidden Forest when he couldn't sleep. As a vampire he could easily walk there untouched by the many scary inhabitants, who were much more frightened by his presence than he was by them. He enjoyed walking under the moonlight, breathing the fresh night air. On one of those nights he wandered closer to the lake, where he knew a clearing was, and found huge cages standing there. The tamers were shooting stunners at the chained dragons, who were pacing and roaring impatiently. He didn't need to be a genius to put the two and two together, he knew the creatures were brought for the Tournament. He did a research on the dragons after that and then dismissed the issue altogether. He never was arrogant or too confident but he was certain he could hold off the dragon to get the golden egg - that was their task.

Mr Bagman gave them a small bag from which they each pulled out a small figurine of the dragon they were to face. Caligo, of course, pulled the Chinese Fireball who was said to be the most vicious and dangerous of his kind. Caligo was slowly getting used to having his life being ruined by the most dangerous beings: first muggles, then Noctis, then Riddle who was yet to show his teeth, now the dragon... Krum was called first. About fifteen minutes later Delacour. Caligo tuned out the sounds of cheering crowd and commentator's words outside, simply sitting in his chair and trying hard not to think about blood. He was so hungry. Weasley was shaking all over, pacing the tent impatiently, wringing his fingers nervously. He jumped and let out a startled cry when his name was called. Caligo shook his head and rolled his eyed in exasperation. The two talented wizards prepared him for the task - was he that incompetent?

It was Caligo's turn. He walked out of the tent and turned his face up to the sky, enjoying the feeling of rain on his skin. It was so refreshing. He looked at the judges: Crouch, Dumbledore, Maxime, Karkaroff and Riddle were all watching him, all wearing worried expressions on their faces, all except Riddle, of course, who sat back in his chair, relaxed, anticipating the show. Caligo moved closer to the arena, where a huge crimson dragon sat next to the nest full of eggs. He immediately spotted the golden one. Taking a few steps forward he heard a low growl coming from the dragon, who stood up and was watching Caligo warily, puffing out the small clouds of smoke through his nostrils. Caligo watched the mighty creature, fascinated, not frightened at all. The beast was a beauty and his rigid posture screamed of power and wisdom. Caligo bowed low, showing the dragon his respect. That caused the crowd to let out surprised cries. The Chinese Fireball was also confused, he tilted his head and looked at the boy suspiciously. Caligo carefully approached the dragon and bowing again said: "I am sorry you have to endure all this, poor creature. Forgive me for using my magic against you." The dragon, it seemed, understood and didn't attack. Caligo waved his wand in the air in a complex pattern and said quietly 'obrigescunt'. The dragon froze, petrified. Caligo calmly walked to the nest, took the golden egg and went to the exit. Turning around, he cancelled the curse and the dragon slowly lay down on the ground, exhausted. The stadium fell silent. Caligo shrugged and entered the tent. He hadn't heard his points - he didn't really care. After the mediwitch checked him out, Caligo sat down on the chair and threw his head back to watch the ceiling. He couldn't wait for all this to end, so he could sneak out into Hogsmead.

However, his wish was not going to come true. The judges entered the tent and everybody began talking very loudly, discussing the champion's performances and, of course, discussing his fit. Tom came closer to Caligo and bent down to look into his upturned face.

"That was an impressive show, Mr Tenebris, who would have thought that simply bowing to the dragon would let you come close enough to petrify it? And such a dark spell, my my, Mr Tenebris, you are playing with fire," he whispered into the teen's ear, with a smug smirk on his face. Tom was certain that the boy was hiding something. He was most extraordinary. And powerful, yes, very powerful indeed. Few could petrify a full grown dragon with one hit. Caligo Tenebris had, in fact, piqued his interest now, it was official. Caligo looked at Riddle and saw curiosity and pleasure burning in the teal eyes. He gave the man a wry smile.

Dumbledore approached them, clearly planning to ask Caligo what spell did he use. The headmaster's face was very serious, almost grave now, there was no more usual interest and anticipation in his gaze Caligo was used to see, his eyes now were very hard and suspicious. Tom, reading the signs, grabbed the teen by the arm and dragged him up from the chair and out of the tent, barking at Dumbledore that his champion didn't want to talk and needed rest. Caligo felt grateful. Riddle practically saved him from an interrogation. However, he simply postponed the inevitable - the headmaster would seek him out sooner or later and have that talk with him. Caligo sighed.

"Mr Riddle, thank you for helping me. But I really need to go," he was looking at his feet, while they walked in the direction of the castle.

"And where, pray tell me, do you need to be if not in your common room, celebrating with your peers?" Tom asked sarcastically, baiting the teen.

"I need to go to Hogsmead, sir," Caligo said, deciding to go with half-truth. Tom glanced at him curiously. They stopped by the wall in the deep shadow of the castle. The rain had stopped and Caligo didn't realize at first that he wasn't wet, Riddle dried him, wandlessly, perharps.

"And what is in Hogsmead?" Tom tilted his head to the side and looked at the teen intently, trying to read his blank face.

"Business," Caligo bit out. Now that he thought about it, he was very hungry. He tried to tune out the sound of Riddle's heartbeat, but failed.

"Fine. But coming back into the castle would be your problem," Tom said nonchalantly, looking at his fingernails.

"Thank you, sir," Caligo breathed out and ran off. Watching his figure disappear into the darkness of the slowly growing night, Tom noticed that Tenebris moved too fast for a thin teenager, too fast for a human that is. Tom narrowed his eyes. A peculiar thought began to form in his mind.

**_enigma_**

Caligo ran very fast. The darkness that had descended on the village kept him hidden from the human eyes. He was faster than the lightning. Moving in the shadows he approached the main shopping district and stopped at the turn to a long dimly lit alley. The streets were full with many tourists, who came to watch the first Task. It would be easy to catch one of them and drag them into the darkness. A drunk wizard came out of the pub and moved in Caligo's direction on shaking legs. He had to lean on the walls to walk straight. When his hand reached the end of the wall, it was grabbed by strong hands of Caligo. The wizard wasn't fast enough to scream, for his mouth was covered with a cold palm and his body was harshly dragged into the shadows of the alley. Caligo silenced and froze the man with two spells and looked around. The alley was empty, people walked past it not paying it any heed. Caligo casted a notice-me-not charm on the both of them and leaned closer to the wizard. The man was watching him with wide frightened eyes, Caligo could hear his heart beating madly against the ribcage. The blood rushed through the veins with a speed of the sound it seemed. Licking his dry lips Caligo trembled in anticipation. Although he didn't like thinking of himself as a bloodsucker, as a predator, as an animal, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed the hunting, enjoyed seeing fear in their eyes and tasting horror in their sweat. He was a monster after all, no matter what Artemida said, he knew better. Caligo attacked the wizard's neck and thrusted his sharp fangs into the tender skin, ripping the artery. The hot blood poured into his mouth and he moaned at the bittersweet copper taste that tickled his tongue. Wizard's blood was so rich comparing to the muggles', had a more layered texture to it, often had a spicy or sweet flavor, depending on the wizard's magic. Caligo pressed harder against his victim and sucked more harshly, urgently, feeling his head spin in the overwhelming sensation. Five minutes later Caligo came back to his senses and realized that he was still sucking on the man's neck. He pulled away and cancelled the spells. The body slid down the wall and fell on the ground. The wizard was dead. Befuddled, Caligo crouched down next to him and tried the pulse on the other side of the neck and on the wrists. He sucked him dry to the last drop. Caligo slumped on his knees in exhaustion. He had never killed before. If he was being honest with himself, he expected to be feeling something about it... anything. But he felt nothing, except the pleasure of fulfillment. He stared dumbly at the lifeless body in front of him. Perhaps, his vampire nature truly changed him, made him emotionless, heartless. Could it really be that satisfactory to take a life?

"You should be more careful feeding in public, someone might notice you, despite the charm," Caligo turned sharply to the sound of a voice. Riddle stepped out of the shadows, with a feral smile on his lips.

"I should have known you would follow me, sir," Caligo was watching the old wizard carefully, knowing all too well that he had the right to execute him on the spot and nobody would stop him.

"Relax, Tenebris, I made them pass the law that no vampire can be executed without a fair trial," Tom came closer. Of course he followed the teen, he hated being kept in the dark, he had to know everybody's secrets. When he saw how fast Tenebris moved he had no doubts that he teen was a vampire. Watching him sucking a human dry was rather entertaining, arousing even. However, he was more interested in the fact that the boy was a vampire-wizard, a very powerful one, who could walk in the sun and wield great magic. A vampire was studying at Hogwarts and none was the wiser! And Tenebris only wore simple glamours on the eyes and the fangs. _How did he manage to fool Dumbledore?_

"I never killed before," Caligo admitted. The news of a new legislation gave him a little spark of hope.

"Well, you used a very difficult spell today that demands a powerful casting, no wonder you sucked him dry, your magical core must be exhausted," Tom drawled, still moving closer to the teen. He met a lot of different vampires when he lived in France but never one so young and so powerful. He stopped next to Caligo and bent down, grabbing him by the jaw, digging his fingers painfully into the skin. "Who turned you and when?" Tom looked into now golden eyes, shining brightly in the moonlight.

"It was the Ancient vampire, I was seven. He came to the orphanage and told me about magic, that I was a wizard. He turned me, cared for me during transformation, taught me to hunt. And then left," Caligo told him, holding his intense gaze. Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise. The Ancient? The boy must be truly powerful with the Ancient's blood assimilated with his. It was so rare they turned anymore wizards these days, let alone abandoned them afterwards to struggle for their lives.

"Who else knows about you except me and your mother?"

"No one, although Dumbledore would probably know soon, judging by the looks he gave me today," he looked down sadly. Tom tapped his thumb on the boy's jaw, thinking. They could use Caligo for their cause. He could help Severus with the further experiments on potions and they wouldn't have to use the ordinary untamed vampires from the Knockturne, who could only work at nights. No, Caligo was perfect for their plans. Being turned by the ancient, he could negotiate with the other bloodsuckers and spare them the trouble of convincing the vampires to become their allies. So many opportunities, and all thanks to one boy. Tom smiled, very pleased with the new development.

"He only suspects you of being a dark wizard, he wouldn't be able to do anything about that. He would simply have to suffer from the knowledge that his perfect Light house of Gryffindor would be tainted by your Dark presence for four more years, that's all," Tom chuckled, letting go of Caligo and standing straight. Caligo furrowed his eyebrows.

"So you are not going to out me then?" Tom shook his head, still chuckling at him. The little vampire was so naive sometimes. Caligo looked at him seriously, intently. He still couldn't solve the riddle that Riddle was. He snorted at the name. At the man's inquiring look Caligo stood up, "Do you have any connection to the Knights of Walpurgis?"

"Are you familiar with this party and its goals?" Tom asked incredulously. Tenebris proved to be much more competent than he hoped.

"Yes. Artemida told me about them and the changes they made in France, the laws that they passed regarding the vampires," Caligo said, while setting the corpse on fire. It would be better to hide the bite marks.

"And what do you think of their work? Would you join them?" Tom was very curious to know if Tenebris was interested. It made his task even easier, he wouldn't have to do anything to sway the little vampire to his side.

"Perhaps. I want to live free in my homeland, don't want to hide all the time," he looked at Riddle thoughtfully, "Are you recruiting?"

"You could say so, yes," Tom smiled. Tenebris was already his.

"What are you hiding? I sense glamours on you but can't see through them," Caligo suddenly asked. If the man wanted him to join, he needed to give something in return.

"That is because they are casted in a different kind of magic," Tom smiled broadly, showing the beautiful white teeth. Little vampire could prove very useful indeed, with all his undeveloped talents, "I will show you some day. Now is not the time and the place. You'd better get that blood off of your face and get into your dormitory," he reached out and wiped off the blood from the corner of the boy's mouth. Caligo licked his lips involuntarily, reveling in the warmth of the touch, the tip of his tongue brushed against Tom's thumb. Tom hummed and his lips stretched into a cunning smile.

**_enigma_**

Caligo silently crept through the empty corridors of Hogwarts. Riddle was dangerous but seemed to be a reasonable man, since he let Caligo go. Perhaps, he should research the party more thoroughly, find out more about its current activity. Something was telling him that the party and the attack at the World Cup were connected. He didn't know how, yet. It wasn't that hard to walk through the castle unnoticed. All Caligo had to do was to stay in the shadows. Moving fast between them he could become almost invisible. It was a shame Noctis left him, there were no books that could teach him all the skills of the Ancient vampire. He had to discover and develop them on his own. The common room was empty, the dormitory was filled with a chorus of snoring and wheezing. Caligo crept onto his bed and closed the curtains shut behind him. His only problem now was Dumbledore. Should he simply admit to the man that he was a dark wizard and get him off of his back? Riddle was right, nobody could punish him or expel for being a dark wizard. It would be easier to be hated by the house for being dark, than to be arrested for being a blood sucking murderer.

**_enigma_**

Lucius was waiting for Tom at the gates of the school. His Lord appeared, suddenly, in front of him and Lucius had to pull himself together to not let his body jerk. Tom smirked at him knowingly.

"So, what's up with this Tenebris. I have already seen that he is dark, if the spell was anything to judge by," Lucius hissed at his friend, irritated by the obvious delight that Tom took in scaring him.

"He's a vampire, Lucius, turned by the Ancient," Tom smiled viciously, his eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"A vampire? At Hogwarts? Under the old goat's nose? Incredible!" the blonde lost his composure and threw his arms into the air. Tom only laughed at him.

"You do realize how useful he would be to our cause? I already have him, he would join us. I think in the summer," he tapped his chin, smiling at Lucius, who smiled back.

"Well, that is most fortunate, I must admit. Although Dumbledore would know he is dark and would, no doubt, try to make him see the light, " Lucius scoffed.

"Yes, yes, the old coot would try to 'save' him. But he wouldn't know that Tenebris couldn't be saved, since he is the creature of darkness, already a murderer, his nature is immutable. And Tenebris is smart enough not to listen to the goat. No, Dumbledore is not a danger to us right now."

"Are you going to mark the vampire?" Lucius asked curiously.

"Yes," Tom said simply, "If he wouldn't submit I will make him."

"What of his Sire?"

"His Sire abandoned Tenebris. So I will become his Master," Tom growled, "He is mine now."

**_enigma_**

December finally brought snow to London. Somebody found it amusing to charm the main hall of the ministry with snowflakes that were now soaring lightly in the air. Tom brushed them off of his usual black robes and entered his office. Barty hadn't come yet and Tom sat down at the desk to look through the reports his assistant thought important enough for him to read. Scanning the pages, Tom thought about how smoothly his planes unfolded. Yes, everything was going slowly, but he knew how to be patient. _Patience is a virtue_. They have recently planned several quick, violent attacks on the muggleborns and one ministry muggle-lover employee, whom Tom suspected to be a member of the Order. They needed to install fear into the hearts of the average wizards, needed to make them doubt the Light and its propaganda, to have second thoughts. Tom was also considering to initiate a few attacks from muggles, to cook up a few assaults and killings on wizards, muggleborns, of course. The wizarding community needed to open their eyes and see how dangerous muggles could be. As soon as they would realize that, his job would be as easy as a snap of fingers. The muggle Christmas was just the perfect day to shed some blood before celebrating the Yule.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related. I simply borrow the characters and twist the stories._

_A/N: this is an AU Tom Riddle's story, so please beware that canon is severely neglected sometimes. For the greater good._

- normal speech

_- inner thoughts_

**- parseltongue**

* * *

Next morning Caligo woke up earlier than his roommates to avoid any questions regarding his performance and following absence yesterday. Not in the mood to go to the Great Hall and meet the headmaster, Caligo hid in the library, as always, barricading himself with a pile of books, not really reading the one in his hands, though. He was thinking about what happened last night in Hogsmead. His vampire senses screamed at him, demanding more, craving the excitement and danger of the hunt, pleasure of taking a life. However, the rational part of his being was certain that his luck wouldn't last and if the people of Hogsmead were to find more bodies, they would of course raise the alarm and the Ministry would surely send aurors to patrol the area. And that would inevitably lead to his arrest. Trial or not, he would be executed because he was guilty. Caligo sighed and dropped his head on the table, the book long forgotten. It irked him that he didn't have enough information on the type of a vampire that he was - there was no way he could predict any new changes in his physical condition.

Warily he entered the Great Hall. It was relatively empty, a few students here and there, mostly younger years. Dumbledore wasn't present and Caligo let out a breath of relief he didn't know he was holding. Sitting down at the gryffindor table he made a show of eating his breakfast, stabbing the sausages rather violently. Nobody paid him any heed and for a moment he thought that, perhaps, he could relax a little. He couldn't - an owl dropped a letter onto his plate. Curious, Caligo looked at the unfamiliar envelope without any word written on it. He slowly opened it and pulled out a letter.

_"Most impressive show you put up yesterday. You have surpassed my expectations. We'll meet soon."_

Even though the handwriting was foreign to him, his acute sixth sense told Caligo it was Noctis' hand. He dropped the letter as if it burnt him and stared at it not really comprehending the meaning of the words. This was the worst way to start the day. _Soon, what does he mean by soon?_ Growing up abused and spending the last few years as an emotionless vampire left Caligo fearless. He didn't get the big head, no, he knew perfectly well that his 'immortality' was overrated, he simply didn't feel frightened by the prospect of pain or death anymore. All he felt now, piercing the letter with his eyes, was a slight apprehension. He was absolutely not ready to face his maker, his Sire. He never would be, for that matter. Groaning, he picked up the parchment and read the words once again. Noctis had probably read about the Tournament in the papers, since it was covered in the international publications as well. Where had he been all these years to suddenly pop up at the most inconvenient time?

"Mr Tenebris," a quiet voice came from behind, though Caligo already knew somebody was coming his way, he didn't deem it necessary to look back, since it wasn't Dumbledore. Caligo slowly turned his head and met the onyx eyes of his potions professor Severus Snape. The man, cladded in black, towered over him, giving him a hard indecipherable look.

"Professor Snape?" Caligo asked impassively, his face blank. He and Snape had a neutral relationship, though, it could be better described as the lack of any relationship whatsoever. Snape despised gryffindors and tormented the lions cruelly, acting unfairly towards them more often than not. However, Caligo he usually ignored. He was apt at brewing, courtesy of Artemida's thorough education, and never acted as the know-it-all like his classmate Granger did, so Snape didn't have any reasons to be hostile towards him.

"Would you care to join me at my office? There is something I wish to discuss with you privately," the potions master was unreadable, with his traditional mask of indifference on his face. Caligo nodded and stood up, hiding the crumpled letter in his robes. They silently walked out of the hall and went down the stairs into the dump cold dungeons. They entered Snape's office and professor warded the door closed and silenced. Caligo only raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't say anything. He sat down on the visitor's chair and watched Snape sat opposite him behind the desk. The dark man stayed silent for a while, carefully watching the boy in front of him, searching his face. Caligo waited patiently.

"Mr Tenebris," Snape began quietly, his voice barely above whisper, but it was loud enough for Caligo's sharp hearing, "It was brought to my attention, that you are able to help me with one of my potions researches that was approved by the Ministry."

"Oh?" Caligo was actually surprised, "But, sir, I have no idea how may I be of any help?"

Snape stared at him intently, and rubbed his hands together somewhat uncomfortably, before he elaborated, "I will be blunt with you, Mr Tenebris, I am working on the improvements of blood replacing potion and I need a stable vampire to perform reliable experiments. You are a vampire," at Caligo's widened eyes he hastily added, raising his hands in a placating gesture, "Nobody else knows, Mr Riddle personally informed me for I was his witnessing expert at the hearing of the bill."

Caligo stared at him, thinking fast. Should he trust this man? Was it safe to associate with Riddle and his people at all?

"Are you involved with the Knights of Walpurgis, then?" he asked, schooling his features back to impassiveness. Snape's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I am. You are aware of the party?"

"Something like that," Caligo waved his hand impatiently, "How do I know you haven't already told Dumbledore and that there are no aurors waiting behind that door?"

"You don't," Snape said simply, a corner of his mouth twitched, mirth was evident in his black bottomless eyes, "However, if you trust Mr Riddle, then you can trust me, I work for him and not Dumbledore. I will keep your secret, I can give you a vow if you wish," he smirked at the vampire and sat back in his chair.

Caligo inwardly sighed. That was the root of the problem - he didn't know if he could trust Riddle.

"What kind of help are you looking for, exactly?" he settled at that. Snape stretched his tightly pursed lips into a weak smile, though it seemed sincere to Caligo.

"I am working on the potion's potential. I am looking for a way of improving its magical abilities. How well does it substitute the human blood for you? If I will be able to make it impeccable for your needs, then any other lower vampire would find it efficient as well."

"It doesn't subdue my hunger anymore, though it used to for the last six years I've been taking it. However, it hasn't been working for me anymore since this summer. The main disadvantage of the potion in my case is that it doesn't feed my magical core, unlike the real human blood does," Caligo told him honestly.

"The blood actually helps you restore and feed your core?" Snape looked shocked and excited at the unexpected discovery.

"Yes. Especially the wizard's blood," he looked down at his feet; the image of the lifeless body lying in the shadows of the alley stood in front of his eyes. He still felt no regret. Was he waiting for it? Was he even capable of regretting anymore?

"Well, that is most unexpected," the potions master tapped his chin with his long calloused fingers, "This brings a lot of new questions, and a more thorough and more complicated research than I have previously anticipated. To answer your question: you would be giving me your blood samples before and after injection of the potion and would report any changes, note the time and the phase of the moon when they appear, etcetera. To make it less suspicious I would take you as an assistant and a future apprentice, since your work in potions is actually acceptable," he sneered but without malice. Caligo nodded, but was still reluctant to agree. Sensing his uncertainty, Snape sighed and leaned forward.

"Should I give you a vow?"

"Yes," Caligo sighed as well, "On my conditions, though."

"Of course."

**_enigma_**

On one hand he wanted to tell Artemida all about what happened, but on the other he knew perfectly well that there was nothing she could do or tell him. She could warn him to be careful, but other than that... he was the one who put himself in danger and he wasn't going to put her life at risk as well. It was enough that she would be punished for hiding and aiding a vampire, if they arrested him - he didn't want her to be burdened with his troubles. He got a letter from her in the evening, in which she chided him for showing off at the Tournament but praised him for his victory nevertheless. He never knew he got the highest score. Well, so much for using a dark spell. He decided not to tell her about his pact with Snape either. The less she knew about all current vampire dealings the better. She didn't need to know that he was forced to search for another cure because he was hungry all the time, and was ready to kill to sate his need.

Dumbledore sought him out at the library, after dinner, when Caligo naively thought he was safe from the old man's attention. The headmaster sat down beside him and gave him a long thoughtful look. Caligo watched the man's old wrinkled hands lying flatly on the surface of the table.

"Mr Tenebris, Caligo, I think it's time for us to have a serious talk."

"Yes, professor," Caligo didn't look up.

"You have used a very dark and old spell at the pitch. Did your guardian taught you the spell? Does she teach you dark magic?" he sounded grave and Caligo felt the old man's hard gaze on his face.

"She didn't, she doesn't," was his answer.

"Then how do you know it?" Caligo felt a finger push his chin up and his eyes met the pale blue one's of his headmaster. Dumbledore looked worried and... angry?

"I am free to buy and read any kind of literature I like, my mother doesn't confine me," and it was the truth, of course. Caligo did buy and read whatever he wanted, Artemida simply helped him to grasp the material better, and helped him practice as well. However, that particular spell he had found on his own.

"She is not your mother, you do know that, don't you?" The head master gave him a knowing look. But Caligo suddenly felt very angry. Whatever Dumbledore thought, it wasn't his business, he wasn't there for Caligo in his time of need - Artemida was, and he was proud to call her 'mother'.

"She is. It doesn't matter whose blood runs through my veins, what matters is who raised me and who gave me what I deserved as any other child," he bit out, narrowing his eyes at the old man. Dumbledore shook his head.

"I see you are already tainted by the dark," he frowned and pursed his lips into a thin line, "Do you know what your real name is? Had she ever told you the truth about who you are, child?"

Caligo barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He had been anticipating this tirade for a long time. Now Dumbledore would 'open his eyes' and would show him that he was 'the child of light'. He sat back in his chair and shook his head negatively, waiting for the show to begin.

"Hmm," Dumbledore gave him a suspicious glance but continued, "Your parents never left you on purpose, they were killed, and your relatives, who were supposed to take you in, brought you to the orphanage. I believe they were incapable of providing for you. Your real name is Harry James Potter and your parents are great light wizards James and Lily Potter," he looked at Caligo, probably expecting him to react.

"So?" Caligo asked. That was his story, true, but what did it entail? Nothing. He wasn't Harry Potter anymore, he wasn't light anymore, his parents were dead and could care less about what he was doing with his life.

"So?!" Dumbledore looked taken aback by the boy's blank lifeless stare, "Don't you understand, Harry, you are a light wizard, you mustn't use the dark spells, you must preserve your magic from tainting it even more!" How could the boy be so reckless, so emotionless? Did this Tenebris witch damaged him so much? It would be tragic to lose such a powerful wizard to the dark, he couldn't afford it, not the Potter boy, certainly. He had been watching him all these years since he came to Hogwarts. Although he turned out to be everything but Potter, he was indeed powerful, no matter how he tried to hide it. Dumbledore was sure it was the witch's doing, she must have manipulated him into addiction to the dark arts and now the boy was in a grave danger. And the fact that Riddle was interested in him only made it all so much worse.

"I'm sorry, headmaster, but I am not Harry Potter. Harry Potter died thirteen years ago," Caligo actually sneered at him, "And why do you care, sir? You never did before, when I was there all alone, beaten, mocked, tortured for being a wizard, nor did my dead parents care, for that matter," he stood up and moved to leave. But Dumbledore's hand grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Your parents were like children to me, you can't disgrace them so," Dumbledore hastily said, deeply hurt by the boy's reaction.

"Well, then you should have taken care of me, to honor their memory, don't you think?" Caligo glared at him and snatched his arm out of the old man's grip. Dropping the chair on his way, he stormed out of the library, scaring the few students that were leaving as well. He felt so angry, rarely had he experienced such strong emotions, and when he had - something bad usually happened. To be on the safe side, Caligo ran out of the castle and as soon as he was hidden in the outside darkness, he bolted like a lightening and in a second he found himself in the thick of the Forbidden Forest.

Dumbledore sat in his place, stunned. Just how deep had the dark magic rooted into Harry Potter's core? How was it possible that the Potters' son could grow up such a bitter heartless boy? Dumbledore never visited him at the orphanage, true, but surely the child exaggerated, simply trying to make him feel guilty, to blame everything on him. Riddle himself, who was born a dark wizard, tried to trick him into believing that he was abused by other children, when it was clear he terrorized the orphanage and could easily take care of himself. Judging by the way Harry carried himself, just like Tom, he was strong and self-confident, ignoring other students, belittling them - surely, abuse was just a poor lie. What had the Tenebris witch done to him? Harry Potter could never become like this on his own. Dumbledore sighed heavily and left the library to the loud complaints of madame Pince. He couldn't find where had the Tenebrises been living all these years and couldn't contact Harry's guardian to talk some sense into the woman or simply threaten her to give the child up. It was most unfortunate and disappointing that the Potters never made him Harry's guardian. They actually chose Snape of all people for that role, but, of course, Dumbledore never told him about that. And never would, certainly. Though he trusted Severus with teaching children and protecting the school, being in the Order even - Severus was born a dark wizard, he couldn't possibly bring up a light child, and such a powerful one as Harry. He couldn't let Riddle take the child under his wing and ruin his life. He'd seen what Tom did at school, how he manipulated and used the students, discarding of them later without remorse. He'd seen what happened to Abraxas Malfoy who became obsessed with the handsome Riddle boy, who wrapped him around his finger and milked his wealth and influence. It was a miracle Abraxas hadn't put him into the Ministry straight out of school. No, his son Lucius did it. And now Tom came back to take Harry Potter away. Was he aware of the boy's true parentage? He would take a particularly vicious pleasure in breaking and tainting a powerful light wizard and then use him against the Order, no doubt. It wasn't that Dumbledore thought Harry Potter to be indispensable, he simply couldn't let Tom Riddle win.

Caligo hadn't talked to the headmaster since then. He was avoiding him at all costs. Snape told him they would start their official experiments after the New Year which suited Caligo just fine. When he heard the news about the Yule Ball and that he was ought to find a partner and to attend it, he felt utterly miserable. Of course Artemida taught him to dance, and robes weren't a problem, no, he simply hated the fact that he had to go. He didn't want to associate with the students more than he already had to. And who on earth would agree to become his partner, that is, if he would even ask anybody at all. So far, every person at Hogwarts annoyed and bored him. They weren't different from muggles, simply didn't abuse him, but other than that, there was no real difference. Loud, nosy, mediocre, boring, boring, boring and... tasty. He didn't want to socialize with them he wanted to suck them dry. It was three weeks into december and he hadn't even itched to look for a partner, nor had he thought of the second Task. He wasn't in the mood. Blood replacing potion didn't work for him, and Snape had to brew double doses for him to subdue the hunger that was becoming only stronger and stronger every day. Only a few days were left until muggle Christmas and a few more until the damned ball, and Caligo couldn't wait to get away from the school and spend his holidays in a quiet and warm company of his mother. Artemida wouldn't be pleased to hear he lost control but she would surely take him somewhere to hunt. She always did. And then there was Noctis. Caligo didn't receive any more letters from him but knew it wasn't over, far from it.

**_enigma_**

Tom had never had illusions about the future. He always knew that he had to do everything by himself if he wanted to get something done. Dedalus Diggle needed to be finished and he would do it himself. Not that his followers were incompetent, not all of them anyway, he simply preferred to extract the vital information personally. It was safer, better this way. Diggle was some low ranking ministry employee, Tom could never remember which division exactly he came from, not that he cared, really. He was confident that the man was in the Order, and surely could prove useful to their cause. The Order of the Chicken and its leader The Goat were a sore spot he couldn't get rid of. They hadn't had an open confrontation yet, but the subtle machinations from the Order's side were palpable, annoyingly so. Dumbledore had a firm grip on the british wizarding community, easily manipulating people's minds, spreading the Light propaganda, planting ideas into the heads of the students who adored him and worshipped him as if he was some kind of a god. Tom had a hard time trying to lessen the coot's control over the Ministry. Nevertheless, he was never the one to give up, to loose - not to Dumbledore, never. Of all the enemies that Tom had, this man was the only one who could have been classified as 'mortal'. Yes, an archenemy. Because you simply didn't let an enemy to live and torment you for as long as 55 years without a good reason. This wasn't just a feud, this was Fate. Ever since Grindelwald failed, Tom knew he was destined to rid the world of the Light Lord Dumbledore.

Tom sipped his third glass of whiskey, sitting slumped in his armchair with his legs outstretched in front of the fireplace. It was almost 2 am and his study was enveloped into darkness; a cracking fire - the only source of light. He was lazily watching the flames and turning his latest plans in his head over and over again. It was his first full-fledged weekend since he took on the position of the Senior Undersecretary and he could finally let himself relax. It was a luxury, since he rarely could afford to let his guard down even around his closest most faithful friends. No, it was only possible when he was alone. Tom sighed and rubbed his tired blood red eyes. Finishing the drink he banished the empty glass and stood up, easily and gracefully despite his age, and strode into the bathroom. He took out a headache potion but before he could remove the stopper, he caught a flicker of his own reflection in the mirror. Looking up he stared at his young, pale, handsome face, his ruby eyes void of any emotion. _Forever young. Forever._

He remembered an 11 year old boy staring at his own reflection in the cracked dusty mirror in the bathroom at the Wool's orphanage. He often looked at himself, searching for something in his own face, not really knowing for what exactly. He wasn't vain, although, impartially he could say he was a beautiful child, more beautiful than many, but he never really cared for his attractiveness, finding that appearances were usually judged by other, more significant factors. Ugly people were sometimes even more powerful than the handsome ones. No, he wasn't narcissistic, it was just that strange longing he felt when he looked at himself. He sometimes wondered about the nature of this feeling, where did it come from, why was he experiencing it. But most of all he tried to understand what was he longing for? And why did the answer seem to be hidden in his reflection?

He looked at himself then, after he met Dumbledore for the first time. He came to the orphanage to give Tom his Hogwarts letter. He told him he was a wizard and was accepted into the magical school. And Tom believed him immediately; he tried to look suspicious and wary, but inside he was burning with... happiness? He wasn't sure, he still didn't know what happiness truly was, besides, he never craved it, it was useless. Satisfaction, yes, he felt an overwhelming satisfaction. But Dumbledore was just a man, although powerful, certainly, Tom was already able to feel his strong aura at such young age, but a man. And as any other he watched the boy in front of him with hooded, suspecting, distrustful eyes. Tom never asked for anybody's approval, but if he were to admit it to himself, he did feel disappointed, even sad, that another wizard had already made his judgement, based on everything but Tom's personality. He was intelligent, true, he was independent, yes, but as any child he wished to be liked, to be praised, to be accepted. But even another wizard, another 'different' person couldn't accept him. Tom hated himself for the moment of weakness he had then, in which he, in a pathetic attempt to impress Dumbledore, told the man he could speak the language of snakes. If anything, it made the coot even more wary of him, he grew cold and distant towards the child. He gave up one of his biggest secrets, practically placing the knife into the man's hands to use against him. All he wanted was for Dumbledore to tell him how special he was, what precious and unique gift he had. But it was dismissed as nothing significant, only a cold assessing stare was any indication of what exactly the man thought about it. Tom was marked as a dark vile wizard that day, and a criminal, of course. That was why he watched himself in the mirror then, trying to see what Dumbledore had. Trying to analyze what was needed to be changed, hid, disguised.

Looking at himself now he thought that he hadn't changed that much since then. Got older, of course, but still had that shadow of innocence lingering in his features, the innocence that fooled so many, seduced so many, but not Dumbledore. When he was young, Tom was annoyed by that fact and tried very hard to solve the mystery of the man's perceptiveness. However, there was no mystery after all, Dumbledore had simply had an experience of handling the charming and deceitful dark lords, as Tom discovered much later. He thought it to be ironic, really. _His ex-transfiguration professor wasn't as 'light' and innocent as he pretended to be._ Tom smirked and his reflection smirked back at him. Downing his potion in one gulp, he then drew himself a hot bath and lay down in it, slowly relaxing his every limb. He didn't feel his age, but his body sometimes did, being preserved only by magic and nothing else. He sighed and closed his eyes tiredly. There was a hard week ahead of him, and he needed all the rest he could get.

**_enigma_**

When Tom walked out of the bathroom with a light robe thrown over his body, water still dripping down from his wet, disheveled hair, he caught himself thinking that, perhaps, his wish of having a good rest wasn't going to come true. Seeing Lucius in his study at such late hour was a bad sign. It could only mean that something happened, something that he wouldn't like at all. Glaring at the blonde, Tom sat down at his desk and pushed his hair back. Lucius shifted in his seat and gripped the head of his cane tighter, making his leather gloves creak softly. Tom rolled his eyes in exasperation and leaning on his elbows on the desk looked at the blonde expectantly, not hiding his ire.

"Well?" Tom barked.

"It could have probably waited until tomorrow but...," Lucius halted uncertainly, a slight frown marred his face, "But I thought you need to know, since it wouldn't reach the press and, probably, wouldn't reach the Ministry either." Tom raised his eyebrows inquiringly at that. If Lucius thought it important then it was important.

"You remember how we read that file on Tenebris? That he was adopted by Artemida, and that their whereabouts were unknown, since they lived in an unplottable area, etcetera," Lucius waved his hand, "Long story short: the town of Áed was the town they lived in, it was magically hidden on the nameless island of the small archipelago by the Erris head-"

"You say 'was'?" Tom interrupted, narrowing his eyes, already knowing where this was going. Lucius only sighed heavily and nodded his head.

"The town was attacked yesterday and most of the inhabitants were killed. Artemida died as well. For certain this time."

"Any idea who attacked them? Would I be correct to assume that they were under Fidelius and couldn't be found by anybody, unless brought in directly by one of the secret keepers?" Tom looked intrigued. However, he was fuming inside. He had planned to make Caligo take him to the island to meet Artemida. He wanted to know how had she survived the fire and why had she vanished, instead of coming to him those many years ago. Now he would never find out._ And just what would happen to the vampire?_ Dumbledore would surely use this opportunity to manipulate Caligo. Damn boy, causing all the more problems for him now.

"Yes, you would. And we don't know who did it. Since the town is autonomic and doesn't depend on the Ministry, they never informed the authorities of the tragedy, so no official investigation could be performed," Lucius shrugged.

"Then how did you find out about it?" Tom raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"You would be surprised, Mulciber told me," Lucius drawled sarcastically. The two never really saw the eye to eye, "His cousin had been actually living there for years and she was Artemida's friend or something. She was the one who found her dead body and told Mulciber that Artemida has a son at Hogwarts who should be informed of what happened. Since I am the school's governor, Mulciber told me," the blonde watched his friend curiously. Tom's face was as hard as a stone, he was clearly upset with the news, "I called Moulier, he is one of retired aurors from the french Ministry, he went there to take a look around. Said that it was a group of attackers, but there weren't any traces or signs left behind for him to recognize. They used magic, that is clear, but who they are and why had they attacked and how had they penetrated the wards is a mystery."

"How did Artemida die?" Tom asked calmly, his eyes were cold and distant.

"Moulier examined her body briefly: her throat was cut, she lost a lot of blood, though there wasn't much of it at the scene."

"How many more were killed?"

"Around 70 people, 24 injured but they never saw the intruders. Half of the town burnt down to the ground."

"This is very suspicious," Tom said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The main question was why was the town attacked? _Why now?_ He had a feeling it was somehow connected to Tenebris, both of them. Lucius, who was still watching him, leaned closer.

"Are you thinking what I am thinking? That the attack happened not long after the the first Task and reports of it in the newspapers? And coincidentally the attacked town just happened to be the one in which one of the champion's mother lived?"

"Yes," Tom hissed at him. Malfoy sat back and after looking at him for some time through the narrowed eyes asked quietly, "Should I talk to the vampire or would you like to inform him yourself?"

Tom considered it for a moment. "I will tell him, no need to alert Dumbledore beforehand. If you come to Hogwarts he would surely suspect that something is going on, while I have an excuse to train my champion. I will talk to Tenebris tomorrow. Maybe he would know something," he tapped his lips with his index finger, inwardly groaning at the prospect of having to go to Hogwarts on sunday, right before the day of their planned attacks. However, he couldn't postpone it any longer. Left without a guardian, Caligo could find himself in a precarious position and Tom needed him, preferably alive and unharmed.

**_enigma_**

Caligo sat on the steps of the main entrance of Hogwarts. He hadn't slept that night at all, spending it in the forest. He felt apprehensive, felt itching underneath his skin, the air was thick around him. He knew something must have happened, his vampire senses screamed at him that something was very wrong and he was restless. Sitting on the cold stone steps, watching the slowly rising sun made him relax just a little bit. It was snowing for the first time this winter, and everything around him was eerily white and dead. A tall dark figure was coming closer from the gates of the school. Caligo could see it was Riddle. What did the undersecretary want from him so early? Caligo sighed and pulled his winter cloak closer around himself. He couldn't get rid of this sense of foreboding.

Tom approached the vampire slowly, he didn't expect him to sit here of all places at such ungodly hour. He himself hadn't slept at all, taking a few pepper-up potions, casting the glamours, he went to the Ministry and sent his two followers from auror division to the island to investigate, since the Fidelius charm had fallen. He knew Severus would be up already and was planning to pay him a visit and drink something more efficient, that would give him enough energy to last through the day. But seeing the small form of a vampire shivering in the cold he decided he would rather get over this now and then would drink something strong. He stopped inches away from Caligo and waited for the boy to look up.

"You are just the person I was looking for, Mr Tenebris," Tom said, when a pair of bright green eyes found his. "Why so gloomy this fine morning?" Tom sat down next to him, thinking if the boy already knew about what happened.

"I can't wait to leave. Dumbledore and I had that talk and now I am a disgrace and a tainted dirty unworthy wizard," Caligo was watching him carefully. He felt the vibe coming from Riddle that tickled his senses. He had something to tell him, he was the one who would help him to solve the mystery of his apprehension and unease.

"So the old coot is disappointed in his little lion," Tom smirked, pleased that Dumbledore suffered.

"Yes. He knew about me being at the orphanage all those years and hadn't done anything and now he's telling me how to live my life," he scoffed and his face contorted in disgust. Tom raised his eyebrows, intrigued. So Dumbledore was once again to blame for yet another abused childhood? Marvelous. If he could find more children like he and Caligo, who had been ignored by the old goat, he would be able to sue him for neglect and deliberate exposure of children to danger, and strip him of all his unmerited titles and privileges.

"Sir, do I really have to go to the Yule Ball?" Caligo's sudden question pulled Tom out of his reverie, and he gave the vampire a surprised look. "They say I have to find a partner," Caligo sneered distastefully and Tom could only agree with him on that. "But I am out of control, all I can think about is how I want to drain them all of their blood. All I feel is hate and hunger and I can't stand the idea I have to find somebody to go with," he shook his head and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"I am afraid you must attend," Tom chuckled at his antics, "Why, take Draco as a partner," he smiled mischievously.

"What?!" Caligo burst into laughter all of a sudden and Tom was taken aback by how a simple sincere smile changed the vampire's face - he was beautiful. But as abruptly the smile appeared it was gone in a second and Tom could only stare. Caligo schooled his features back into a mask of plainness and boredom and sighed. "This is a bad idea, really, sir."

"Well, he would surely entertain you," Tom had pulled himself together and now was watching the boy's face intently. There was so much hidden behind this mask, how could his appearance so drastically change? Was it yet another mysterious vampire power of his?

"Hmm," Caligo hummed uncertainly and looked at the shining black surface of the lake.

There was tension in his body, Tom could see it even though it was covered by the cloak. Did he know about his mother? He couldn't read him - something that had happened rarely in his life, almost never. Tom could read anybody, if not by the face then by the mind. He straightened his back and decided it was time to break the news and be done with it.

"Actually, I came to see you to bring you some bad news, I suppose," he shrugged his shoulders. He never knew compassion and couldn't offer it to another.

"I know, I feel it. Premonition of some sort," Caligo said softly and turned to look at Riddle.

"Right. Now, yesterday evening the town you lived in was attacked and destroyed by the unknown group and your mother was killed along with other seventy people," he drawled nonchalantly but was watching the vampire very closely.

Caligo felt a pang in his heart. Artemida was dead. Just like that, just like he drained the wizard in a few minutes, she died and he hadn't even felt anything. He missed her, that was what he felt. He never loved her, of course, but he respected her and appreciated her care. The ache in his heart was of a different nature. Somebody dared to touch her, somebody dared to take what was his and it hurt.

"How was she killed?" Caligo asked simply, his voice as cold as it usually is. Tom was surprised by the lack of reaction but didn't show it.

"The throat was cut and she was drained of blood."

"They dared..." Caligo's whisper was barely audible. He scowled and clenched his fists hard, his knuckles turned white. Tom smiled to himself - the vampire was angry. Ager was the best motivator.

"They dared!" Caligo vehemently hissed and stood up harshly. His posture changed abruptly, he seemed taller, intimidating, his face darkened and was distorted by the fury, that broke the glamours and Tom was impressed by the cold hard golden eyes that promised retribution and pain. Caligo's changed demeanor brought a gleeful vicious smile onto Tom's face. _Just how violent could the little vampire get when provoked?_

"Do you have any idea who might be behind this?" he asked Caligo when the boy turned away, shaking in anger.

"As a matter of fact I do," at these words Tom perked and gave the boy an inquiring look. Caligo pursed his lips into a thin line and closed his eyes resentfully.

"Care to share?"

"My maker and his clan, presumably," Caligo spat. Tom's eyebrows shot up on their own accord as he lost his composure.

"How do you know this? Had he contacted you?"

"He sent me a letter after the first Task, telling me we will meet soon. I believe he didn't know I got adopted and wasn't really looking for me until I hit the tabloids. And then he found out I was taken in by somebody else. Of course he would have killed her - that was the reason we went to live to Áed in the first place, it was warded even from vampires. Artemida was one of the secret keepers so she was able to bring me in. He had probably traced one of our letters and found the island. I don't know much about the Ancient vampires, but he is a wizard as well and he is very powerful. Either he destroyed the wards, or he caught Artemida when she went to the continent and made her let him and his dogs inside," Caligo explained, his words were dripping with venom. It was clear he hated his maker, Tom thought.

"Why would he care that a witch took you in? He abandoned you."

"I am his property, I belong to him, I am to submit to him when he calls for me," Caligo bit out in disdain, "He can't stand the thought that I could deliberately choose somebody else, have somebody else take care of me."

Tom listened and couldn't help but laugh at the notion that this Ancient vampire wasn't that different from him. However, his mirth soon disappeared and was replaced by anger. Caligo was his now, he didn't give a shit to whatever the Ancient wanted - he abandoned the child, left him practically to die, and now he thought he could simply come and take him? Tom was not going to indulge him. He stood up and came close to Caligo. The boy looked up at him, frowning to himself, still angry. Tom gently took Caligo's chin into his fingers and looked into the magnificent golden eyes.

"If you join the Knights of Walpurgis, I would protect you from him. He won't take you away from me," he hissed softly. Only Caligo was too smart to give in.

"You offer to change one master for another. You want me to be your slave instead of his. And he has the upper hand in this, by the way, since his blood runs through my veins," he smirked at the Senior Undersecretary, and the smirk was feral. Tom suddenly realized that Caligo was, in fact, a creature, a very dangerous one and almost invincible. But Tom wasn't the Dark Lord for nothing, he was the one all the bloodsuckers were ought to submit to. He didn't let go of Caligo, he tightened his grip instead and let the glamour on his eyes disappear. Caligo blinked and saw the brilliant blood red eyes staring into his golden ones so intently, it was almost painful.

"You are not going to be a slave, you are going to be a follower," his hissing was menacing now, "An ally. I am fighting for the rights of the dark wizards, dark creatures. I want you by my side, you can help our cause, help me improve this community, restore the balance, change the world, give vampires their rights, create a better life for yourself."

Caligo watched him, mesmerized. The passionate words laced with venom of danger crawled right into his cold heart. This was how this man seduced people to his cause, this was how he enslaved them - giving them hope and dreams, that could very well never come true. Alluring, deceptive, mysterious.

"You are the Dark Lord they all are whispering about, aren't you," Caligo breathed out, staring into those unique unbelievable eyes the colour of the Caligo's only source of life - blood.

"I am Lord Voldemort," Tom growled, seeing no point in hiding the fact from the vampire. He needed him on his side, Caligo was one of a kind and he wasn't going to lose him.

"Let me go and put your glamour on, Dumbledore is coming here," Caligo said abruptly, his face once again blank, eyes slowly turning green. Tom let go of him and did the same. They both looked innocent and were conversing about the Yule Ball when Dumbledore approached, looking at them suspiciously. Tom inwardly thanked the vampire's nose. Having failed at catching them redhanded at whatever they were doing, the headmaster offered them both to join the student body for the breakfast in the Great Hall. Tom and Caligo had to comply.

**_enigma_**

On their way to the Great Hall Tom's thoughts went back on Caligo's maker. What was the point of turning the child in the first place? Judging by what Caligo told him, this Ancient sought him out, waited him out and got the child to trust him only to turn and abandon him in the cruel muggle world. What was he trying to achieve by making the boy a vampire and telling him about magic? Tom felt the nagging suspicion that the Ancient wasn't that distant from the realm of mortals as his kind tried to position themselves. Was he trying to change the world like Tom did? Was he pushing Caligo to violence by leaving him to fight for survival? If Artemida never met the child, he wouldn't have taken blood replacing potion and soon would have turned into a vicious hunter, addicted to human blood, forever driven by his hunger. Yet his powers would have given him protection from both muggles and wizards. Caligo could have easily become a dangerous tool, completely out of control and just in few more years Tom would have been forced to eliminate him. Because Tom was a reasonable leader, he had no use for insane untamed murderer running free, causing chaos - he had enough of those in his servitude, who were relatively harmless. No, it was a true miracle that Artemida found the child and that was exactly why the Ancient killed her. It wasn't just a show of possessiveness it was a cold revenge. He had sent Caligo a warning. And only Tom stood between them now. Was the little vampire actually worth the trouble? For, surely, the Ancient would bring his whole coven with him and would raise Hell and Tom, who had just started his quiet shadowed campaign, was not ready to face such complication. He was powerful enough to fight them all and kill, eventually. However, losing his followers in the process was something he wanted to avoid. Finding loyal powerful servants was the most difficult task for someone like Tom. He had the best of the best, but they were few and they were valuable. Was Caligo valuable? Would he prove to be loyal despite the fact that vampires were loyal only to their Sires? But Caligo was an unprecedented case, he wasn't brought up by his master, he grew to despise him and hate him. There were too many questions with very few answers. He needed to research the Ancients.

After breakfast Caligo said his goodbyes and ran off. Tom saw the glares the little vampire was sending towards the students - he was hungry. While they were at the table, Severus told him discreetly that Caligo had to take double and sometimes triple doses of potion, so hungry he was and it still wasn't enough. The potions master had already tried to feed him the animal blood empowered by additional potions but it was a futile attempt. Tom instructed him to help the child feed on humans in Hogsmead - make sure he didn't kill anyone and obliviate his victims afterwards. There wasn't another way for them now.

Tom had also said his goodbyes later and, after Severus gave him his strongest energy-boosting potions, he left. Back at the Riddle manor he discovered he could take a nap - the opportunity he didn't miss. Rested, he woke up just in time to be ready to appear at the Ministry Christmas party. He apparated right into the main hall, heavily and rather tastelessly decorated, and went straight into his office to give Barty a flask of polyjuice. His assistant was going to play his role tonight, creating an alibi for him, while he would be away, killing and torturing. As soon as Barty, looking like Tom, left to join the guests, Tom dissolved into the thick black mist, that slowly crawled on the floor and out into the hall. As soon as it reached the apparition point - it vanished. Nobody saw that Lucius Malfoy apparated from the Ministry right after that.

**_enigma_**

The tall house stood out sharply with its clean white, plain stone walls among the normally grey and red bricked residences that filled this neighborhood. The thick black smoke was coming out of its chimney and all the windows were alight, bright colourful lights could be seen merrily flicking in them from time to time. There wasn't any snow in London - it couldn't be preserved in the hot smog of the city that never slept. The house seemed to float like a ghost in the darkness of the grey gloomy street. There were many muggle christmas decorations around, and the black door of the white house had a small golden bell, with a red ribbon tied to it, stuck on its surface. The carol singers were nowhere in sight, it was too early for them yet. The three tall dark figures slowly walked down the street and approached the house, quietly, completely unnoticed - nobody would be looking out of the window on the Christmas day. One of the three mysterious strangers moved aside from his companions and waved a wand in the air, whispering in latin. The area was warded from any unwanted visitors.

Dedalus Diggle, or 'Dingles' as his colleagues and friends blandly called him, had been anticipating the Christmas holidays for a long time. Working at the Beast Division at the Ministry was truly a hard ungrateful job that brought little money and a lot of troubles, and ever since Riddle became the Senior Undersecretary it got only worse. Dumbledore warned Dedalus many times that this dark intimidating man was very dangerous and wasn't the one to mess with. However, so far, all that Riddle did was simply make him and his division work double shifts. Dedalus thanked the gods that he didn't work at the Being Division, for it was their job to catch and execute vampires, and now, after Riddle's bill passed, they were under a horrible pressure - Riddle was simply getting rid of anyone who voiced his opinion on the matter or, worse, refused to give the bloodsuckers fair trials. People became depressed and subdued, walking close to the walls and looking around fearfully, dreading to meet the Undersecretary who had this disturbing habit of popping out of nowhere and towering over the employees, his black robes darker than the night, his scowling old face scarier than the bogart. Dedalus didn't communicate with Riddle often and felt very happy about this. He was cutting the huge goose his wife cooked for their Christmas dinner, as the two of them waited for their already grown up children to finally grace their parents with a visit. He heard knocking on the door and smiled - those little brats were going to prank him, no doubt. He went to answer the door, stroking his short tangled beard and grinning as wide as it was physically possible. However, when he saw who exactly stood at the threshold his smile disappeared.

Tom stepped inside, smiling viciously at the wide eyed man in a red christmas hat in front of him. His face, as well as the faces of his companions, was hidden under the skull-mask, so Diggle couldn't see his smile, but could see his burning ruby eyes gleaming menacingly in the soft candle light. Mrs Diggle screamed but nobody heard her, of course. The three men occupied the small hallway, shutting the door behind them. Tom nodded to a shorter man on his left and Mrs Diggle was bound and taken out of the hall and up the stairs to the second floor, her high-pitched shrieks echoed bouncing off of the walls. Tom's other companion silently walked past Diggle and disappeared into the kitchen. Dedalus stood frozen and stared dumbly at the tall menacing form in front of him. Tom was only twirling his long white yew wand in his hands playfully and watched the bearded idiot who was already sweating like a pig. If this was one of the Order's members, then, perhaps, Tom had overrated Dumbledore's dogs. Diggle was so frightened he didn't even take his wand out which amused Tom greatly. _Should war begin, the Order would fall before getting into the actual battle_. Finally, Diggle came to his senses and dug his wand out of his tattered jacket, his hands shook violently and Tom thought the man wouldn't be able to cast anything at all no matter how hard he tried. Diggle, however, managed to send a stunner but, of course, Tom didn't even have to move to deflect it. Diggle gulped and tried to run but was petrified on the spot.

When Dedalus came to his senses and opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the face of his Senior Undersecretary Riddle. Thinking that the alarms worked and aurors were able to save him and his wife, he smiled at the sight. However intimidating the man was, he was one of the Ministry's employees, surely he came to investigate who dared to attack one of his people. But when Riddle smiled back at him, Dedalus suddenly realized that the man looked different. He looked awfully young, younger then Dedalus' own sons, and his eyes were not teal but blood red. Diggle blinked rapidly not able to comprehend just what was going on.

"Already awake, Dingles?" he heard the deep baritone of his Senior Undersecretary. He stared at the young ruby eyed man whose mouth let these words out. Was it really Riddle? Tom flashed him a feral smile and Dedalus felt shivers run down his spine.

"Now, if you are capable to civilly converse, please, indulge me. Tell me about the Order," Tom gracefully sat on the chair next to Diggle's frozen body and crossed his legs, ready to listen.

"What... is going on? Mr Riddle? Why are you... the Death Eaters... how?" Diggle mumbled incomprehensibly. Tom winced at the nickname and stomped his foot angrily. He hated this blasted nickname. He had already tortured the idiot reporter that came up with it, and he was still chained in the dungeon at Riddle's manor. He would torture him again, maybe even tonight when he'd finished with Diggle.

"Dingles, I need information. Your missis is upstairs with one very cruel and impatient man. So should you resist and keep your mouth shut, she would suffer," Tom drawled, looking at his fingernails. He felt rather disappointed, he hoped there would be some resistance, at least a short duel, but the Order's dog proved to be incompetent and pathetic.

"Mr Riddle..." Dedalus still couldn't grasp the idea that his boss was one of the cruel murderers, that burnt down the whole camp at the World Cup. Tom sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

"Dingles, if you insist, then report to me as your Senior Undersecretary: what do you know of the Order's activities," Tom glared at him, itching to curse the fool.

"I am under the oath, sir. But why are you...? You look..." Dedalus could only gape and shake his head in disbelief. Tom rolled his eyes in exasperation and the next second he leaped forward to grab the man by the throat and push him into the wall. Dedalus's body was unbound but he still couldn't struggle and the pain from the collision with the wall made it impossible for him to move. Riddle was unbelievably strong for somebody so thin and gaunt.

"You will break the oath," Tom snarled angrily. He pressed harder on the man's windpipe and Dedalus jerked to try to breathe. "I don't care if it strips you of your magic or life, you will tell me everything," his eyes turned so cold and cruel - Diggle squeaked in fear. Tom knew very well what oath the idiot was talking about, his own spy Severus, who managed to get into the Order, couldn't tell him anything except the few things that the members discussed in their meetings, and those were rare, since Dumbledore preferred to work with each one of them individually.

"You... you..." Diggle coughed and wheezed, staring at him. Tom's face contorted in disdain and he let go of Diggle, pulling his hand away as if he was holding something fithy.

"Bloody muggle-lover," he hissed at now coiled body of loudly panting Diggle on the floor, "I despise your sort. Crucio!" the bearded wizard didn't even see the wand. The unbearable pain shot through his body burning his nerves and he screamed. Tom was watching him resentfully. He could have used Legilimency, but the oath would still prevent Diggle's mind from giving up the information, and should Tom press harder, he would simply destroy the mind and the man would be useless. The only way to extract information was to motivate the idiot to give it up willingly. "Should I let you hear your missis' screams?" Tom asked nonchalantly when he canceled the curse.

Dedalus tried to say something but his throat was too sore after the screaming. He shook his head vehemently and tried to sit up, but the hurting was just too much. He whimpered weakly and lay still, trying not to look at Riddle.

"Mulciber!" Tom barked, looking up at the ceiling. The next moment a woman's screams pierced the air and Dedalus squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to convince himself that this wasn't happening, this wasn't real, this was just a nightmare... But she screamed and screamed, she begged not to touch her, not to do 'this' to her, but deep inside Dedalus knew, that nobody would listen to her imploring. His wife was being tortured and raped in their own house, a few feet away from him, and he couldn't do anything to save her. He felt useless and broken. Dedalus looked at Riddle pleadingly.

"Please..." he croaked. Tom gave him a lazy assessing look and sneered at him, "Do you want to listen to her wails all night or are you going to talk?"

"Why are you doing this?" he whispered. She was wailing now, and the small voice in his head started begging for her to stop, begging for them to kill her already to cease these horrible sounds.

"Dingles, the wrong words escape your mouth. I have already told you what I need from you, I am not here to have a small talk with you," Tom intoned, lazily drew his wand and crucioed him again. Dedalus thrashed on the floor, grabbing at his own limbs trying to lessen the pain. His hoarse screams barely outvoiced his wife's. Tom hummed pleasantly to the unison cacophony of their wails and screeching. He felt almost satisfied. Now, he only needed the information.

**_enigma_**

_'DEATH EATERS ATTACK AGAIN' On the 25th of december, the muggle Christmas day, four different attacks were reported in London. The group of skull-masked men dressed in black, who attacked and burnt down the camp at the World Cup this august, who are also known as Death Eaters, killed again._

_At around 9 pm the neighbor of the Carter family informed auror division of the attack that had taken place only half an hour before that. Mr Pebblelock of Hornchurch, a wizard who had been living next to Carters for almost ten years reported that when he went to share his christmas pie with them, he found their house to be ruined, and the Dark Mark soaring up in the sky above it. He immediately informed the authorities. Carters were a muggle family, whose youngest daughter Martha graduated from Hogwarts two years ago, she had found out that she was magical when she first met Mr Pebblelock. Aurors that arrived at the scene reported that all four members of the Carter family were severely maimed, being tortured with cruciatus and cutting hexes, and were brutally murdered afterwards. Martha Carter's body was used to leave yet another message which said in english: "sacrifice in the name of purity of the race". With miss Carter's blood was also left a written message on the wall, that consisted of a drawing of the Dark Mark and a writing next to it 'The Dark Army' which aurors recognized as the possible name of the group. Their usage of powerful dark curses and the Unforgivables indicate that the attackers are dark wizards._

_At the same time in another part of London McCormack' muggle family of Wetford was attacked. Their son Andrew graduated from Hogwarts ten years ago and has been working at the Muggle Liaison Office at the Ministry of Magic since then. His parents were tortured to death and their bodies were dismembered. Andrew McCormack's body was brutally maimed and used to leave the same message as the one on Ms Carter's body. Their bodies were discovered by their muggle neighbors who called the muggle police. Aurors reported that there was also the Dark Mark in the sky and the drawing of it on the walls along with the name of the terrorist's group._

_At the very same time in Mitcham a wizard and a ministry employee of the Beast Division Dedalus Diggle and his wife Agatha were attacked. Both wizards were tortured. Mrs Diggle was raped and severely maimed before she died of internal bleeding unable to heal herself with magic. Mr Diggle was found stripped of his magic and killed by a cutting curse. Aurors reported that a different message was left at the scene, though there is no doubt that it is a work of the very same Dark Army, since the Dark Mark was placed over Diggle residence as well. The message written in Mrs Diggle's blood said: "the road to hell is paved with good intentions". What were the Death Eaters referring to is still unknown. The Senior Undersecretary Riddle, who was at the Ministry's Christmas party at the time of the attacks, was alerted by the Head of DMLE madame Bones and instantly arrived at the scene of the crime at the Diggle residence, while madame Bones led the other two investigations. Mr Riddle commented that "the evident hatred towards muggles is the main reason for the attacks" and he is certain that the Dark Army is also responsible for the attacks of the previous years in Bristol, Nottingham, Dandee, Blackpool, Birmingham, Norwich, Exeter, Cardiff, Perth and others, since those attacks were also aimed at muggles and muggleborn wizards._

_To make it worse, at around 11 pm a group of muggles attacked a wizarding family of Brickwoods who were visiting their squib sister in Stratford. Muggles were armed with guns (a bullet firing weapon, see more about dangerous muggle contraptions on p.12) and both Cyrus and Lilian Brickwoods were beaten and shot and died of the blood loss before the aurors and mediwizards could reach them. Mrs Brickwoods' squib sister Rosaline was raped and shot afterwards. Their deaths were discovered only hours later, when Theodor Brickwood, the only child of the deceased wizards, reported their disappearance to the auror office. Auror Shacklebot who was first to arrive at the scene commented that he "had never seen anything so horrible in his life" and that "the severity of beatings was beyond his wildest imagination". Some say that the violence demonstrated by muggles towards Brickwoods could be compared to the violence of the Death Eaters. However, the muggles were caught by the muggle police and in the course of interrogation they admitted that they wanted to get rid of the "freak" and "abomination" that miss Rosaline Brickwoods was. The obvious hatred towards magic in their words had shaken our reporter Ms Skeeter, who arrived to collect their statements along with auror Shacklebot, to her very core._

_Today the wizarding world would be mourning the horrible tragedy that transpired on the Christmas day. How had it happened and why - those are the questions we would be asking ourselves. By a personal request of the Senior Undersecretary Riddle we ask you to be vigilant and very careful around muggles and move to the only-magical towns and areas if there is any kind of discomfort or disturbance, caused by the non-magical people; all muggleborn wizards and witches to consider leaving their muggle families or ensure their safety, since the Ministry is incapable of providing them with 24/7 protection (more details see on p.14)_

**_enigma_**

Caligo folded the newspaper and leaned on the table, thinking. He had no doubts now that the Knights of Walpurgis were behind the Dark Army. Riddle must have planned all these attacks including the muggle one. Caligo knew that muggles were actually capable of coming up with the attack on their own, all Riddle had to do was to simply give them a hint or two. But he was sure that their attack was initiated, simply because it couldn't be a coincidence that all the four killings transpired at the same interval of time. He shook his head. Riddle was playing a very dangerous game, gripping the wizarding community in a vice from both sides. He was actually going to start a civil war and take down the ministry, wasn't he? It was obvious he was bringing it down slowly, piece by piece. What else would be the Dark Lord doing, taking a mundane job of the Head of DMLE, and actually working his way up the ladder for the eight years? The Dark Lord Voldemort, 'the flight of death' Caligo smirked. He couldn't help but admire Riddle's determination and cunningness. And it was as clear as the day, that Diggle was targeted for his love for muggles - what else could the proverb mean? Caligo got up to move from the table, leaving his unfinished breakfast on the plate.

The Yule ball was tomorrow and Caligo still hadn't found a partner. He thought that, perhaps, if he didn't then they wouldn't make them go. But the head of his house, Professor McGonagall had been stalking him since yesterday's evening threatening Caligo to force Grnager on him as a partner if he didn't find somebody else by today's evening. He stared at the students around him helplessly. How was he going to do it? He wasn't going with Granger, not for the life of him. His eyes were slowly assessing the faces of young wizards and witches. Should he ask one of the third years? No, they were scared of him after the Task. Older years? Sure, if he wanted to be hexed into the oblivion. Sighing he kept looking. Involuntarily his eyes stopped at the arrogant form of one Draco Malfoy, who was sneering at the people around him with a superior look on his face, as always. Caligo rolled his eyes at the blonde and snorted to himself. _How could Riddle even suggest such an atrocious idea? Certainly, Draco had already found himself a partner and would never..._Why was he even thinking about this? Caligo moved sharply, walking in the direction of the exit. He was insane to even consider this possibility, however, and he hated to admit that, he could see the Riddle's logic: Draco hated him but wasn't afraid of him, and irritated Caligo to no end, but their mutual dislike would surely keep him on his toes and, what was more important, from thinking about blood. Lost in his thoughts Caligo hadn't noticed somebody blocking his way and bumped right into the blasted blonde.

"Watch where you're going, Tenebris? Have you gone blind, you, idiot?" Draco snarled at him, smoothing his robes angrily. Caligo watched him in bewilderment. Should he really try? After his performance at the pitch he could easily hex Draco back if the blonde attacked him and not worry about hiding his skills.

"Malfoy," he began, and Draco sneered at him and turned to walk away, "Would you like to accompany me to the ball?" Caligo blurted out, trying hard to keep his face and voice in check. Draco's eyes went wide and he stared at him, looking gobsmacked.

"What?!" the blonde shook his head in denial and looked at Caligo as if he was insane.

"You heard me, I am asking you to be my partner at the Yule Ball," Caligo finally pulled himself together and was now very calm and composed, and amused.

"Are you insane? I would never go out with a mudblood!" the fact that Draco didn't mind going with him but once again was complaining about his blood made Caligo laugh out loud. The blonde was taken aback by his mirthfulness. "What's so funny, mudblood?" he bit out, still locking shocked.

"Malfoy, I am not a mudblood, in fact, I am a pureblood," Caligo smirked at him, chuckling, "My blood is of the purest kind, but I am hiding, since Dumbledore is out to get me."

"You're lying!" Draco hissed but Caligo saw the uncertainty in his eyes. Surely, the blonde saw his performance, saw how powerful he was, and saw how well Riddle treated him. He was simply reluctant to admit that he was wrong about Caligo.

"No, you can ask Mr Riddle if you want, he would tell you. He knows all about me," he smiled at Draco cunningly. The blonde narrowed his eyes at him.

"And what, pray tell me, made you think I would go with you, of all people? Did you honestly think I hadn't found myself a partner right from the very beginning?" he sneered at Caligo.

"Well, I thought just the same at first. But then I realized that I actually hate everybody here and can't possibly stand their faces, while yours is somewhat familiar to me and almost, ah, dare I say, friendly? Oh, and Mr Riddle also told me I should ask you," he purred at the blonde, enjoying how rapidly were Draco's eyes growing wider and wider.

"You can't be serious," Draco finally managed to mumble.

Caligo leaned closer and whispered into his ear, "I am oh so very serious, Draco." And then he smiled at him, with one of his rare smiles that he only gave Artemida when she managed to amuse him. "Let me know if you agree after dinner." And he left the flabbergasted blonde alone in the corridor.

**_enigma_**

He spent the day at the library. Snape, after hearing that reading and researching made Caligo calmer, helped him to subdue his hunger, gave him a written pass to use the Restricted Section and Caligo couldn't help but marvel just how actually great Snape was. The man, despite being his snarky sour self, did help him and did spend hours on brewing and experimenting on potions for him. Sure, Riddle ordered him to do that, but Snape could have easily left Caligo to suffer on his own. Yet, he brewed, talked to Caligo every day, asking if there were any changes, and gave him the pass that most older years couldn't ever get at all. Caligo coildn't believe his luck. He walked past the shelves and stroked the ancient tome's spines dreamily. So much knowledge was hidden from the students, and they preferred to stay ignorant, bloody fools. He took two volumes of "The Dark Arts: offensive and defensive spells and techniques, torturing and healing". He sat down at the farthest end of the library and dove into the texts. After a few hours of reading and absorbing the countless spells, he sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes tiredly. There was just so much to learn, he wished he could read faster. While he sat staring dumbly at the ceiling his thoughts turned to Artemida. He remembered the times when she taught him the dark arts. They used to duel in their backyard, always blowing up something in the end. She would never go easy on him and he absolutely loved that. He thought he missed her. He did. But he didn't long for her, never had. It was just the comfort and peace that she gave him that he valued so much. The old grumpy witch saved his life and raised him a decent wizard. He was so grateful. He wished he could see her before she died, to talk to her about all his troubles and doubts, to hear her advice. But alas. Riddle's words were running through his head. Was he really that powerful to go against vampires in order to have Caligo all to himself? His possessiveness irked Caligo, however, he knew he himself wasn't any better. Was Riddle able to give him all that he promised? Was he honest when he said that Caligo wouldn't be a slave? Judging by the pace Riddle was going, he would soon make some significant changes and Caligo found himself eager to see them, to maybe even take part in them? He couldn't know until he met Noctis. Caligo groaned at the memories of the vampire and rubbed his eyes again.

"Can you even dance?" he heard Draco's voice drawl somewhere on his right.

"I am apt at pureblood etiquette, I was actually taught the subject very thoroughly," Caligo answered without turning to the blonde, "I'll have you know that my adoptive mother is a pureblood witch from France - she wouldn't have let me grow up worthless of her name," he said nonchalantly, flipping through the tome.

"Then why do you look and behave like some poor mudblood?" Draco came closer and looked at the tomes with a flicker of awe in his eyes.

"I told you, I hate to attract their attention, I don't want people to know of my origin, or of my mother. We value the peace we have," he found it easy to talk of Artemida in a present tense.

"So you are dark as is your mother and you are hiding so that Dumbledore didn't find out?" Draco confirmed.

"Precisely. Only I made a mistake at the pitch, I should have used some basic spells. Now he knows, now everybody knows," Caligo waved a dismissive hand.

"Listen, Tenebris, are you truly serious about that?" Draco's face turned very serious. Caligo barely strained himself from laughing again. The blonde was so dramatic about this.

"I am."

"I firecalled my father and when he heard you asked me out, he laughed like mad and told me that I must accept," Draco actually pouted and Caligo chuckled into his open book.

"Just what is going on between Riddle and you?" the blonde asked suspiciously. Caligo smiled at him. Draco was jealous.

"Don't worry, he's all yours. He is simply my patron during the Tournament and he happens to know my mother," his lies were always smooth.

After silently scrutinizing him for almost five minutes, Draco shrugged and hunched his shoulders in defeat, "Fine. I accept. But I will hex you if you all but batter your eyelashes the wrong way. And I will choose a robe for you," he sneered at Caligo.

Caligo only smiled. He imagined the look on McGonagall's and everybody else's faces when they would find out who his partner was. Perhaps, the ball wouldn't be as shitty as he anticipated.

**_enigma_**

Tom sat in his study, drinking whiskey after a long and hard day. All the panic and terror that erupted at the Ministry was tiring to deal with, but worth it. Angry, frightened people had been attacking the Minister's office since the early morning and Fudge fled, the coward he was, leaving all the mess to Tom. Well, nobody wanted to rant to the Undersecretary, so they quickly saw themselves out under his hard glare. All in all his plan worked perfectly. The press stupidity was disturbing, though, something must have been done about it as soon as possible. Perhaps, he would place a few of his people into the editorial office, so that he could monitor the news and correct the articles.

He thought about the information he got out of Diggle. Mulciber raped his almost unconscious wife the second time in front of him, killing her afterwards. Diggle broke under the sight and Tom's cruciatus. He gave up everything he knew, loosing his magic in the process. That was a fascinating sight - to watch the long translucent tendrils of magical power surge out of the wizard, leak out of his pores, drip from the tips of his fingers. And all of it, all of his precious light magic was absorbed by Tom. He felt ecstatic then. Even killed the idiot mercifully, by simply cutting his throat with a hex. Nott, who had been searching the house, found some interesting correspondence between Diggle and, as it turned out, a few other members of the Order. Now they had more names to look into. Surprisingly, Diggle proved to be most informative. He told Tom about the initiation ceremony, about the way they were recruited, about the structure and ranks, types of missions and tasks, their intelligence abroad. They bound their newborn children to Dumbledore so that they could later become the Order's members even before graduating. Most interesting part was about Dumbledore finding the Potter boy, who was thought to be dead and, surprisingly, wasn't bound to him by his parents, in the bout of geniality, no doubt. Tom remembered that ridiculous story how the icons of Light were butchered by their own closest friend, also light, also gryffindor - Peter Pettigrew told him all about it for he was the one to find their bodies but no child at the house. And now it seemed the boy was found. Dumbledore hadn't told the Order much, but so far they knew he was studying at Hogwarts right under everybody's noses...

Tom groaned and almost smacked himself on the face. How could he be so blind? Caligo Tenebris was the carbon copy of his grandfather Charlus Potter, who was in Tom's year at the school! He shook his head and laughed coldly. Caligo was full of surprises, indeed. He was the last Potter and he was a vampire - oh, the irony. His grandfather was the one who deprived them of the few rights that they had managed to keep then. So, Dumbledore was the one who took him and left him at the orphanage? Hadn't he learnt his lesson with Tom? And now he discovered that his little Light prince became a dark wizard. That was a low blow. Tom laughed again and poured himself another glass, cheering Dumbledore and downing it in one gulp. Caligo would make him suffer even more in the future, when he would join Tom and would reveal his true nature. As a Potter he had a handful of seats in Wizengamot, he could actually influence the outcome of the sessions and passing of legislations. As a Potter and a vampire he could give rise to revolution in the british wizarding community, heck, in the whole wizarding world. Tom rubbed his hands in gleeful anticipation. The little vampire boy proved to be more useful and interesting with each passing day. Tom laughed again, remembering suddenly Lucius' letter. Caligo had actually taken his jocose advice to heart and asked Draco to be his partner at the ball tomorrow. He didn't want to attend the stupid children gathering but now he was curious. Lucius said he would also come to see what Caligo and Draco would do to each other. This was going to be at least entertaining.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related. I simply borrow the characters and twist the stories._

_A/N: this is an AU Tom Riddle's story, so please beware that canon is severely neglected sometimes. For the greater good._

- normal speech

_- inner thoughts_

**- parseltongue**

* * *

Tom stood in the Great Hall of Hogwarts and tried very hard not to yawn. He and Lucius had been waiting for what seemed like ages for the actual ball to begin. The whole student body was already here, all dressed up like clowns - most wore muggle style attires, waiting for the champions to come in and open the ball with a traditional waltz. Only slytherins, of course, wore elegant evening robes and stood a little aside, sneering at the others. Looking at Dumbledore's robes was physically painful and Tom averted his eyes every time the old coot appeared in the range of his sight. The acid yellow robes decorated with dancing elves and ringing bells were absolutely horrible. He entertained the idea that one day he would pass a bill that would let him execute anyone who dared to dress so atrociously. Lucius stood beside him and kept sighing heavily, as if he was in pain - Tom glared at him from time to time, but the blonde paid no heed. Tom was ready to strangle everybody around him, so bored he was.

Finally, the candle lights went dim and the great doors of the hall opened to let the champions and their dance partners in. Delacour and one of her own classmates were in the lead, haughtily walking forward with their heads held high. At least they wore Beauxbatons traditional dancing robes of light blue colour. They were followed by Krum and some small thin witch from the seventh year of ravenclaw or hufflepuff house, Lucius couldn't tell for sure, not that Tom really needed this information. They were watching the champions slowly approach the dance floor, quietly discussing them - Malfoy was telling him a little about each one of them. Krum wore Durmstrang traditional crimson robe and his companion was dressed accordingly. Tom didn't think much of Karkaroff's champion: besides obvious talent in quidditch and aptitude in dueling, courtesy of Durmstrang endless practical lessons, the stocky gloomy boy seemed mediocre at best. The third pair entered. Now, that was the sight: fiercely blushing Weasley, wearing a horrible purple robe with a huge grey jabot collar - the whole attire looked like a family relic from the XVIII century; and the indian Patil girl from gryffindor, in her traditional sari, hanging hopelessly on her partner's arm, completely unnoticeable against such a striking redheaded background. Lucius snickered into his fist feigning cough and Tom couldn't help but roll his eyes. His friend could be so childish sometimes. However, he couldn't deny that Weasley had outdone himself this time. Tom wasn't the one to follow the latest fashion, since he had more important matters to take care of, but the idea behind the traditional Yule Ball had always been quite simple: showing off - in wealth, in the sense of style, in power. And watching all those who were present in the hall now, Tom could easily conclude that no man or woman here were of any interest, had nothing to show off.

The last to enter the hall were Caligo and Draco. Tom couldn't resist a small smile to appear on his face - the two teenagers looked like ideal pureblooded princes that they were. Both dressed in sumptuous layered robes, Draco wearing white, Caligo - black. Both chose colours that brought out their eyes, complimented their features and complexions. At the first glance it was hard to tell, but if one looked closer, it was evident that their attires were made of an expensive acromantula silk that was very soft to the touch and shimmered softly in the candle light. Of course, everybody watched them with wide eyes, shocked to the very core - homosexuality or anything that was somehow connected to it was frowned upon and disapproved of in the wizarding community, much like in the muggle one. It wasn't exactly a taboo, there were no laws regarding prohibition of the same sex relationship or marriage but the hatred towards homosexuals was quite evident and went without saying. So even a small fit like this one, pairing of two males for a simple ball night, caused a strong, negative reaction. Lucius looked ecstatic, however, only Tom could tell that he was, judging by the hooded glazed eyes of the seemingly bored and impassive blonde - he knew all these little Malfoy details very well indeed. Lucius was an open-minded man, who never limited his views by social prejudices. He knew perfectly well that his father was involved with Tom but it never bothered him, since Abraxas took his duties seriously and was a good husband, a good father and all in all a man worthy of being the head of the Malfoy family. Lucius himself grew up to be a free man with many desires that he wasn't afraid to fulfill. Was he faithful to Narcissa or not, Tom couldn't tell and couldn't really care, but his friend never hid his interest in young and beautiful men and women. Perhaps, he was simply a collector?_ It would fit him well_. Thus, being the perceptive and unbiased man that he was, Lucius never confined Draco, and found it amusing and pleasing to see his son not being afraid to shock the public.

The four pairs took their places at the dance floor and took their positions. Tom was amused by the notion that Caligo was leading, when the music started and the pairs began to move. Gently pressing a hand to the small of Draco's back, Caligo confidently led him around the dance floor, swaying and circling perfectly to the rhythm, not missing a beat. Both boys wore masks of boredom on their faces - only the small pink spots on Draco's cheeks indicated the physical tension of fast accurate movements.

"The vampire is very good," praised Lucius quietly, so that only Tom could hear. He hummed in agreement not taking his eyes off of the pair.

**_enigma_**

Turning round and round, Caligo looked straight into Draco's eyes, deciding this was the best course of action - otherwise, he could snap, seeing all these faces around him, smelling their blood. He was woken up this morning by an extremely vicious fit of hunger and, disillusioning himself, bolted to the dungeons, like a lightening, pushing down a few armor suits and tearing papers out of professor Flitwick's hands on his way. Knocking on Snape's door he caught himself on the thought, that he could very well attack his own teacher, but before he could walk away, he was pulled inside the office by the strong hand of the potions master. Snape had to take one look at his face to understand what he needed. Suddenly, Caligo found himself staring at the bare neck of his professor. Snape, holding his long black hair up with one hand, pushed down his collar with the other and looked at the vampire impatiently.

Blinking at him, Caligo licked his dry lips uncertainly, but hearing an irritated growl hastily approached the tall figure and leaned closer to the pale sensitive skin. Nobody had ever offered themselves willingly to Caligo and he found it to be very alluring, as satisfying as hunting even. Slowly he put his hands on Snape's chest to steady himself and touched his neck with a tip of his tongue, inhaling the scent of blood running deep underneath the soft skin. Licking, he listened to the rush of the blood pumped up with adrenaline, to the fast heartbeat, to the unsteady breathing of the man who was brave enough to offer the predator his own life force. Sliding his hands higher to hold on the back of his neck, Caligo thrusted his fangs deep into the skin and into the artery. The hot blood poured into his mouth and, to the sound of Snape's loud moan, Caligo pressed his lips firmer around the bite and sucked hard on it. He felt his professor breathing harshly, the man put his hands on vampire's shoulders and squeezed them, not in pain but pleasure. Perhaps, it had something to do with the willing offering of blood, Caligo wasn't sure. He closed his eyes, sucking urgently, swallowing harshly in big gulps. He felt dizzy, like if he was falling into a blood red vertigo. When Severus' moans turned rather loud and indecent, he forcibly pushed Caligo away, making the vampire whimper at the loss. Feeling lost and tricked, he gave his professor a confused look.

"That is enough, Caligo, you would be able to hold on through the day," Snape pressed his hand on the wound on his neck, healing it wandlessly, which Caligo found quite impressive. Snape was breathing heavily and his usually pale face was flashed with pink, his onyx eyes gleamed brightly, "Here, drink this as well, it might help prolong the satiety," he held out a vial with blood replacing potion, still looking a little excited, aroused.

"Thank you, sir, you really shouldn't have..." Caligo trailed off and took the vial, frowning to himself and rubbing the blood off of his face.

"Today is not exactly the best day to let you hunt in Hogsmead, but you are clearly distressed," Snape took a deep shaky breath to calm himself down, "I did what had to be done. We don't want you running around the castle, eating the students, now, do we," he sneered in his usual sarcastic manner, straightening himself. "However, I must admit, I expected the bite to be, ah, painful and unpleasant. Do all your victims feel like this?" he quirked an eyebrow at the vampire questioningly.

"No," Caligo answered simply, looking at the vial in his hands, "You are the first one to find it pleasant. I think it happened because you were willing to give me your blood."

"Curious," Snape said thoughtfully. He tapped his chin with his fingers, considering how could this affect his experimental potions, "You may go, Caligo, be careful tonight. If you would feel hungry again and would find you're loosing control, come to me," he looked at the vampire not really seeing him, lost in his thoughts, "Go," he waved his hand. Caligo nodded and left without a word.

Caligo spent the whole day at the library, of course, glaring at the clock on the wall that was counting the minutes too fast for his liking. It wasn't that long until he looked up yet again and found it was already time to go change and prepare for the ball. Sighing, he dragged himself up to the gryffindor tower and into the dorm. His dorm mates were frantically dressing up, pampering themselves. Rolling his eyes at their antics, Caligo strode to his trunk and noticed a package on his bed. Picking it up he saw a small note on it, _"Wear this. No objections. D." _Smirking, he ripped the wrapping open and widened his eyes at the sight of acramantula silk - he knew just how expensive it was. Pulling the cloth out he found it to be a very elegant black layered robe, there was also the second set of robes and a plain suit that were supposed to be worn underneath the black one. Shaking his head in amusement Caligo took the robes to the bathroom and changed. Looking at himself in the mirror, he decided that simply brushing his hair would be enough to complete his look. Gliding out of the common room to the surprised and jealous looks of his housemates, Caligo stepped through the portrait hole and found himself nose to nose with Draco. The blonde had been waiting for him impatiently, nervously picking at his white robes of the same kind as Caligo's. Looking the boy over, Caligo smiled at him.

"Looking good, Draco, very good, I must say," he purred and saw Draco's cheeks turn pink. The blonde straightened himself and gathering his wits put on the mask of irritation.

"I've been waiting for you here for ages, idiot!" he glared at the vampire and turned to walk to the hall. However, his assessing and pleased glance at his appearance didn't escape Caligo. They walked in silence and stopped to stand right behind Weasley and Patil at the hall's entrance. Draco sneered at the vile robes of the redhead and Caligo couldn't help but agree with him.

"Tenebris, I hope you would behave at the best of your abilities," Draco hissed at him warningly.

"When had I not behaved well?" Caligo smiled at him charmingly. Draco huffed but didn't reply. He reluctantly took vampire on the arm, and stood straighter, looking the pureblood heir that he was. Caligo followed his example.

**_enigma_**

Dancing with Draco now, he couldn't help but smell the blood of other dancers, it rushed through their veins in excitement of action, tickling on his sharp senses. Determined, he stared into the pale grey eyes of his partner and found that Draco hadn't once looked away, but held his gaze. They didn't talk, didn't smile, but somehow Caligo thought they felt each other's rhythm and pace and managed to adjust to each other comfortably. He didn't even realize at first that he took the lead and, surprisingly, Draco didn't object. Leading the blonde was easy - they both danced masterfully, carefully avoiding other pairs, well taught by their talented tutors.

The waltz was finished and they stopped smoothly, bowing to each other. All the students flooded the dance floor, cramming the space with their hot bodies. Caligo's head began to spin. He involuntarily leaned closer to Draco, looking around sharply, feeling like a trapped animal. The blonde pulled him into another dance, less formal, pressing their bodies close together. Perplexed, Caligo gave in, still being in the lead. A few professors joined their students in circling around the dance floor as well. Caligo met the pale blue eyes of Dumbledore, who was dancing with McGonagall and was watching the vampire intently, giving the Malfoy heir confused glances. Draco stirred them away and closer to the edge of the dancing area. When the music ended, they discreetly stepped away and found themselves standing next to Lucius Malfoy and the Senior Undersecretary.

"I must compliment you both, young men, you two look impeccable tonight," Lucius smirked at the boys and put his hand on Draco's shoulder, giving him a proud look. The blonde smirked haughtily but was evidently pleased with his father's praise.

"Tom, how do you find our attires?" Draco turned to Riddle, smiling at him smugly.

"Draco," Lucius chided, squeezing his shoulder a little. But the boy paid him no heed.

"I agree with Lucius, you both look marvelous," Tom drawled, though he was looking at Caligo, assessing his face and wondering amusedly how could he have missed such an obvious resemblance to Charlus Potter. Draco narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything.

"Thank you, sir," Caligo replied and looked down at his feet. He felt too hot and uncomfortable in the hall filled with sweating bodies that smelled so temptingly.

"What do you say we go dance again, Tenebris?" Draco glared at him and pulled him back into the crowd. The last thing Tom and Lucius saw was a murderous look on the vampire's face.

"Do you think he will kill tonight?" Lucius asked warily, "I brought a few stakes just in case," he patted on his pocket mockingly.

"Severus said he had already eaten today. So his only victim would be Draco," Tom snorted at his friend's joke. However, he felt that vampire wasn't sated at all. His hunger grew in a rapid progression and Severus couldn't explain it. Perhaps, Tom mused, it was connected with his growing up, maturing. Since Caligo was actually aging and changing while being a vampire, he might as well be experiencing a growth spurt.

"Shouldn't Tenebris get himself a donor or something? It would be safer to have the same person feeding him all the time," Lucius shrugged his shoulders, watching the jumping and jerking teenagers. He didn't want to take Tom's bait, but his friend wasn't fooled by his uncaring look.

"You have a candidate in mind? Severus can't do it, he has too much on his plate already and it would surely compromise his position as a spy," Tom replied.

"No, but you should share this idea with the boy, surely, he can find somebody at the school who would willingly feed him, he's a vampire for Salazar's sake, he can seduce anybody into submission," the blonde smirked at his friend. Tom rolled his eyes at the insinuation.

"I think he had already seduced Draco," he retorted and smiled smugly at Lucius' frightened searching glance at the dance floor.

**_enigma_**

Draco was holding him by the waist, pressing close against him and watching his face intently. Caligo felt very hot and hungry again. He felt like they were turning and swaying too fast, the many faces and bright dresses quickly flashed before his eyes, his head was spinning. He needed to find Snape.

"Tenebris, the hell is wrong with you?" Draco watched him through the narrowed eyes. He noticed the small droplets of sweat on the boy's forehead, but the blasted gruffindor never sweated before.

"It's nothing, Draco, nothing," Caligo breathed out, grabbing on the blonde's shoulders tighter. But Draco couldn't be fooled so easily.

"Nothing my arse, Tenebris, you look like you are going to faint. Why are you staring at everybody like they are going to bite you?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Caligo gave him an amused look at the thought that somebody here could bite a vampire. "What's between you and Riddle?" he decided to change the topic of their sudden conversation.

"He is practically a godfather, I've known him for my whole life, he is my teacher," Draco drawled haughtily, holding his head high, "And don't think I haven't noticed you changing the topic. Back to my question: what's going on?" he glared at Caligo warningly, daring him to ignore his question again.

"I want to eat everybody around us," the vampire said nonchalantly, hoping that Draco would drop the subject.

"You want to eat people?" Draco snorted indecently and laughed at the confused looking Caligo, "Tenebris, you look like you had been almost eaten, have you seen yourself in the mirror? Seriously, what is your problem?"

"Why do you care?" Caligo sneered at him.

"This ball is a boring piece of shit and I hope you would entertain me with your sufferings. Come on, you can tell me," he laughed again, his face flushed slightly, "I bet I'm the only person you talked to in all the years you've been here." Caligo gave him an incredulous and exasperated look. The blasted blonde wanted to be entertained, who would have thought.

Turning yet again, he looked around, licking his dry lips. The smell of hot blood filled his nostrils and the heavy copper flavour teased his tongue. Yes, he could entertain Malfoy by ripping a few throats apart, however, it would be the last time the blonde saw him. Looking back at Draco, who was still waiting for his answer, watching Caligo impatiently, he involuntarily lowered his gaze on the long pale neck and a blue vein pulsing underneath its skin. Mesmerized by the sight, vampire swallowed harshly, feeling the saliva gather in his mouth, coating his tongue. _What does the blonde taste like_? He shook his head, trying to steady himself, to chase the unwanted desire away. But the tender throat and that faint thin line looked so alluring. He let out a needy groan.

"Tenebris! Come back to the realm of the living," Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Already loosing it?"

"You have no idea," Caligo hissed and pressed harder against the blonde, enveloping him into a tight embrace. At Draco's bewildered look, he tilted his head and whispered into the boy's ear, "I can't tell you here, let's get outside, we could both use some fresh air," how easily the lies escaped his lips. His dark entity of a predator took over him, clawing at his chest. He could hear Draco's rapidly beating heart, the adrenaline rushing through his burning blood, his sharp eyes caught the uneven pulsing of the delicate vein, that had showed through a little more, tempting him.

"Tenebris, just what do you think you're-" he heard Draco breathe out against his cheek, the hot air tickled his skin teasingly.

"Come, Draco," Caligo cut him off, "You want answers, you will get them," he growled impatiently and stirred the bemused boy to the doors, pulling him through the crowd of moving bodies, elbowing his way out. Nobody paid them any heed and they quickly left.

"Tenebris, if this is some kind of a sick gryffindor prank, I'm warn... warning you," Draco was breathing hard as they finally stopped running and found themselves in the rose garden just outside the eastern entrance. "And when did you get so strong, you bag of bones? Your grip is like some iron chains," the blonde whined, rubbing on his arm Caligo had been grabbing him on. The vampire only smiled at him unapologetically and stepped closer, inhaling his scent deeply. _Would his blood taste as sweet as it smelt?_

"Well?" Draco eyed him warily, "You promised answers," he demanded, standing straighter, giving the other boy a confident, superior look.

"Yes," Caligo drawled dreamily, battering his eyelashes at the blonde. He was so hungry, he could simply jump on the boy and suck him dry, but he wanted it to be a willing sacrifice, just like with Snape. He wanted to feel the pleasure again, to make Draco beg for more. He touched the pale face, caressing the flushed cheek with his cold fingers. They both were so hot, they didn't feel the freezing air around them.

"The hell are you doing?" Draco moved back, looking confused and trapped. His back pushed against the tall green hedge, the rose thorns pricked on his skin, ripping through the soft fabric of his robe. Caligo smiled at him and licked his lips seductively.

"I am giving you my answer, Draco. I wasn't joking when I said I wanted to eat all those idiots. You, however..." he leaned closer and smelt the trembling boy's soft skin, touching the cheek with his nose ever so slightly, "I want to give you pleasure, want to make it satisfying for you," he murmured. Draco stared into his eyes, that were slowly turning to golden. Gasping, he jerked to move, but Caligo's hand pressing onto his chest didn't allow him to get away.

"You-you are a vampire," Draco breathed out, frightened. But his body betrayed his mind - Caligo could smell his hidden desire. There was much more to the blonde than he let to show. Giving him a feral smile, the vampire pressed harder against the hot body and leaned to whisper into his ear.

"If you submit, if you let me bite you, I would give you pleasure you haven't experienced before," he murmured and sucked on the blonde's earlobe. A soft moan escaped the pale lips and Caligo grabbed on the boy's broad shoulders impatiently, "You must submit, Draco, tell me you want it," he hissed, feeling the itching underneath his skin and in his fangs. His mind was clouded with the smell of hot flesh under his nose.

"Yes, please, do it," Draco whimpered, trembling underneath the weight of the vampire's body. The boy was frightened and excited at the same time, his hands fisted Caligo's robe, tagging on it. Aroused and drunk on his desire, the vampire thrusted his fangs deep into the soft skin of the blonde's throat, sucking on it urgently, groaning at the hot stream of blood rushing through his mouth. He heard loud moans escaping Draco's lips as the boy wriggled under his weight, rubbing against him. Rolling his eyes back, Caligo bit harder into the flesh, feeling his own blood rush down to his groin. Whimpering, Draco moved his hands up to grab on the long black locks, tagging on them painfully. The vampire sucked harder, pressing the blonde deeper into the green hedge, rubbing his hard arousal against his sigh. The boy's blood tasted like sweets, like flowers, its dark oily flavour drove Caligo insane. Draco was just so appetizing.

"Mr Tenebris, I suggest you let Draco go now, we wouldn't want you to suck him dry, would we?" Riddle's deep voice brought him out of his lustful haze.

Pulling his lips away from the reddened swollen skin he slowly turned to look back. Riddle and Lucius Malfoy stood behind them, the latter wearing a murderous look on his face, his hand squeezing his wand tightly. Reluctantly, Caligo let go of the boy, and stepped back, licking the blood off of his lips. Draco's legs gave away and he slowly slid down the hedge, moaning indecently and closing his eyes. Lucius, glaring at the vampire, stepped closer and crouched next to his son, healing the deep bite, checking his pulse and eyes. Caligo rubbed the remains of the sweet blood off of his mouth and licked it away from his fingers, his golden eyes shone brightly in the moonlight. Tom was watching him intently, with a small smirk on his lips. He and Lucius lost the sight of the teenagers soon after they went to dance again and Lucius, being the paranoiac mother hen that he always was towards his only son and heir, pulled Tom to go looking for them, swearing at his friend on the way, blaming him for Draco's inevitable death before it even happened. The sight of the two, pressed against the hedge, moaning and whimpering, was truly endearing, Tom thought, however, Lucius clearly disagreed. He was going to curse Caligo on the spot, only Tom's warning glare stopped him. Of course, the blonde wouldn't have killed him, but he wasn't going to take any chances. Besides, the little vampire was dangerous, it was impossible to predict his reaction to the assault when he was in his almost inhuman state.

"It was so good," Draco whispered meekly, his eyes lost their focus and he was staring into nothingness with a blissful smile on his face.

"Mr Tenebris," Lucius hissed menacingly, glaring at the smugly smirking vampire, "Please, do find yourself a donor, to indulge your... needs." But Caligo only smiled at him mischievously.

"But I did, Mr Malfoy," he waved his hand at Draco. Lucius stared at him dumbly then stared at his son, who was still smiling, being somewhere else, in the state of complete euphoria.

Tom watched the scene in great amusement, a smile stretched his lips. Was the vampire's allure so strong? Or was Draco's will so easily controlled? Whatever the reason was, the little ferret belonged to the vampire now. Even after he got sober and realized what happened, he would still crave more and would surely come to Caligo willingly. Tom used to entertain the idea of the addiction element when he was creating the mark to bind his followers to him, but the strongest kind of addiction that could have been useful for his invention was either chemical or sexual. He wasn't going to have his servants become drug addicts like some filthy muggle scum and he surely wasn't going to make them all sex slaves, since he couldn't and had no wish to take any of them whatsoever. And those who couldn't sate their addiction usually went insane rather quickly, as their magic tried to create the illusion of satisfaction but had no power or will to work with. This was one of the greatest differences between wizards and muggles - their magic could easily save them from terminal illnesses like cancer, AIDS or brain tumor, but it could just as easily destroy their minds and bodies, causing a painful slow death that muggles could never even imagine. He was curious to see how far would Draco's addiction go and just how the little vampire would use it.

"I think we should return to the Great Hall before your absence is noticed, Mr Tenebris," he told Caligo, staring into his eyes. The golden colour took on a reacher hue, seemed to gleam brighter, the black pupils stood out sharply against it - Tom felt mesmerized and had to take a deep breath to gather his wits and make himself turn away. Soon Caligo would learn to use his allure in its full force and take advantage of everyone, including Tom himself. He would need to find a way to deflect this wild magic, he didn't need a bloodsucker playing with his mind.

"By the way," he turned to Caligo again when the boy put his glamour back on, "Mr Tenebris, you hadn't signed your name on the list of the students who are staying for the holiday, had you?"

"No, sir, I hadn't. I didn't really think about it," Caligo's smile faltered and he frowned, "The news of my mother's death were rather unexpected... I didn't realize I had nowhere to go this winter," his frown deepened and he looked down on his feet, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Well, you have now," Tom smirked at him and looked at Lucius pointedly, "You would be staying at Malfoy manor, with your friend Draco," he drawled the word 'friend' sarcastically, smiling at the horror written on the blonde's face.

"Tom, are you crazy? He would eat Draco alive! You see how he is, he can't resist him!" Lucius sprang up on his feet and looked at his friend as if he had gone insane.

"Mr Tenebris lived with his adoptive mother for six years and never once took her blood, am I right, Mr Tenebris?" Tom looked at the boy inquiringly. At the affirmative nod of a head that was still hanging low, he continued, "Besides, it would be beneficial to all of us. Draco wouldn't suffer from his new found addiction, Mr Tenebris would be well fed and nobody would ask any unnecessary questions regarding his mother and his living arrangements. It would look suspicious if he stays at Hogwarts when he never usually does," he drawled, pulling his cloak tighter around himself and casting a warming charm on it.

"Who said Draco is addicted? He was bitten only once!" Lucius stared at his friend helplessly. Tom had already planned everything. Had the bastard set up this as well?

"Ask Severus, he had been bitten only once as well," Tom smiled viciously. Lucius could only gulp at this. If Severus couldn't fight it, than Draco was surely a lost case.

"Fine," the blonde sighed in defeat and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, "Mr Tenebris, meet me at Severus Snape's office tomorrow morning. Draco and I would take you to Malfoy manor. If you would touch anybody else in my family or if you would hurt my son, I would stake your heart, cut off your head and burn you to ashes," Lucius growled warningly at the vampire, who raised his head to look at him.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy, I appreciate your help very much," Caligo nodded, looking at the man gratefully, "I promise, I wouldn't take advantage of your hospitality."

"We'll see," Lucius narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously and turned to help Draco stand, taking him on the arm. Leading the boy to the entrance of the castle, he threw Tom an angry glare, "You would be responsible for any fit he throws and you would answer to Narcissa for this," he warned him and disappeared behind the heavy doors.

**_enigma_**

Tom looked at the vampire, who was watching the moon somewhat dreamily, mesmerized with her magical glow. Without his mask of an ordinary silent wizard on, he did look beautiful, alluring, mysterious, like a real vampire should. He had this heavy ancient air around him, screaming of power. Tom kept wondering just what kind of a vampire he was. He didn't find anything useful in his own library on the Ancients. Nobody really knew how they were born or created, nobody knew what happened to those whom they turned, since they usually took their 'newborns' away and hid them in their lairs. Caligo was the first precedent, the first one to be left behind. There was no information on what exactly would happen to him in time. Lower, ordinary vampires usually went through a simple transformation, loosing the ability to walk in the sun, becoming bloodthirsty and rather wild, since their creature entity took over their humanity. Vampire-wizards had an advantage, their magic partly preserved their humanity and sense of responsibility and they could last without blood much longer, could even socialize with humans and work, until they were caught, of course. And the blood replacing potion helped them greatly - the amount of the hunts and kills decreased dramatically since its invention. But it didn't work for Caligo. He needed real human blood, it fed his magical core. And he inherited the Ancient's powers, which were also unknown and Tom could only guess what the vampire was capable of, would be capable of in the future. He was a powerful wizard himself and the vampire blood seemed to work as a catalyst to his powers' boost. He needed to keep Caligo by his side, the boy would follow him in the end, Tom would give him time to realize that it was simply inevitable. And if Draco's blood was the price - he was willing to pay it. Of course, he wasn't going to let the vampire kill the Malfoy heir, but letting him feed on the boy was quite harmless and easy. Vampires valued their 'donors' who were actually sexual slaves. He wasn't comfortable with the notion that the blonde boy would be enslaved by somebody else, but if he would get to bind Caligo to himself, Draco would follow his master blindly.

Tom noticed that Caligo was watching him now. Nodding to the boy, he turned and strode to the entrance, hearing the light steps behind him. They entered the Great Hall just in time to join the crowd that left the dance floor to sit down and have some drinks. They approached the tables and Tom filled two glasses with punch and held one of them out to the vampire. Caligo took it for the sake of pretense, since he didn't find any of the drinks really tasty, in fact, they rarely differed from each other, they all tasted dull on his tongue.

"Gryffindors always add something to the punch," Tom raised his eyebrows after he took a sip, "Rum this time," he downed his glass and filled it again.

"Did you attend balls at Hogwarts as a student, sir?" Caligo gave him an incredulous look.

"Yes, I was a student once, imagine that," he sneered at the vampire, "Although in my time there was only one ball held, in the late spring of 1945, celebrating the victory in the second world war," he added, looking at Caligo blankly.

"I simply thought you are not the ball type of person," the boy smirked and Tom thought he saw a small smile break through the mask of indifference.

"Not this kind of balls, surely," he spat snidely, looking around in disdain. Caligo snorted in amusement and nodded, agreeing with him.

Tom remembered his first ball very well. Abraxas had been pestering him about it for weeks. Tom didn't want to attend, he saw no point in the event, besides, they were graduating only a week after that, he couldn't wait to get away from the school and some petty teenage entertainment didn't attract him in the least. But his friend was adamant to take Tom to the ball and make him waltz. Tom, the prodigy that he was, didn't know how to dance. He was brought up in a muggle orphanage and never visited any of the pureblood social gatherings - there was no way or reason for him to learn. But nosy and stubborn Abraxas decided to take care of that as well. He had been teaching his lover for three days, between their examinations, and Tom thought there was no torture worse than that. Sure, he was a fast learner, but Abraxas, just like Tom himself, never accepted anything less than perfect. Hiding from him was a difficult task, since Malfoy knew all the secret passages and all the classrooms, and knew when to look for Tom sneaking into the astronomy tower for a smoke. He couldn't escape the lessons and, through a lot of struggling and fighting, mastered all the possible dances right before the ball.

He remembered how Abraxas dragged him into the Great Hall, threatening him with imperius curse, knowing very well, however, that it wouldn't work on Tom. They stumbled ungracefully inside and Abraxas had to grab him on the arm to prevent their even more indecent fall. Thus, they found themselves holding hands in front of the whole student body, staring at them. If Tom was ready to turn around and walk away, Abraxas, the pureblood heir that he was, on the contrary, was ready to take advantage of the situation. He pulled his friend forward and, circling his arm around his waist, led Tom into waltzing around the dance floor. After the dance was finished, Tom, annoyed that he was led in a dance like a bloody female and irritated by the scandalized faces of the others, strode to the tables, leaving Abraxas alone in the crowd. When he came closer, he saw Charlus Potter shamelessly pouring whiskey into the punch bowls. It was Tom's first ball and the first time he got drunk. He angrily downed six or seven glasses of punch and when Abraxas finally found him, Tom was ready for another dance. Unlike the others, alcohol hadn't helped Tom to relax, hadn't made him careless or funny - it made him angrier and it made his head lighter, if anything, he felt reckless and violent. Leading, Tom circled them around the dance floor in a maddening haste, twirling and turning faster and faster to the deafening sound of music. He remembered the nauseous sensation of spinning, the bright spots of colour passing fast before his eyes, the sweat and the heavy hot air, pressing on his lungs. He was so angry, he let his magic flow and everybody dancing around them began moving faster and faster against their own will, it looked a lot like tarantallegra curse mixed with imperius. They swayed and turned, faster and harsher; falling, they got up and carried on, crying in pain, unable to stop. Abraxas had to slap Tom on the face to stop him, and quickly dragged him out of the hall before Dumbledore could catch up with them and spoil Tom's life yet again. They hid in the astronomy tower and spent the rest of the night there, smoking in silence. Abraxas was too upset to talk about what happened and Tom... Tom didn't care.

"I haven't said yes yet," he heard Caligo say. Tom turned to look at him, quirking an eyebrow at that. "Joining you, I mean. I haven't said yes yet. You cover for me, you place me in the Malfoy manor, give me a donor, I am grateful for all that, but it wouldn't buy my sympathies, you know that," the vampire elaborated.

"Yes, I know. You need more time to decide, and time we have, plenty of it," he answered nonchalantly, giving the boy a cunning knowing look.

"We do?" Caligo looked at him incredulously. But Riddle only stretched his lips into a thin smile.

"My boys, here you are!" the mass of acid yellow robes assaulted their vision. Dumbledore came up and was smiling at them both with his kind grandfatherly smile.

"Headmaster," Caligo bowed his head, while Tom rolled his eyes and looked away.

"Oh, but where is your partner, Caligo?" the old man looked around, looking innocent for all the world.

"Draco is unwell," the boy said carefully, hiding his face behind the glass of punch.

"Oh, how unfortunate. I must admit your paring up was quite impressive, I never thought you had it in you, the aptitude for pranks," the headmaster winked at him and smiled endearingly. Aptitude for pranks? Caligo's eyebrows shot up and Tom turned to give Dumbledore a bemused look.

"Right, well, yes," the vampire looked at Tom helplessly. Dumbledore leaned forward, smiling wider.

"Tom, are you enjoying the ball? I think we've done great this year!" he looked at the crowd of sweaty red children raving on the dance floor, the elves on his yellow robes began jumping like mad, trying to catch up with the rhythm of the music.

"Yes, you've outdone yourselves this year," Tom drawled, wincing at the headmaster's robes and downing his glass in one gulp. Caligo snickered into his fist, feigning cough. Sighing at Tom's antics and giving him a chiding look as if he was a five year old, Dumbledore glided away to torment others.

"Why do you hate Dumbledore so much? Sir?" Caligo asked Riddle when the headmaster disappeared into the crowd and out of the hearing range.

"Why do you think I hate him?" Tom asked simply, but his eyes turned cold and he watched the boy intently. Caligo tapped on his nose with his index finger.

"I can smell it, or rather sense it, it's coming in waves from you, sir," he looked Riddle straight in the eyes, "You hide your dark aura very well, but not your hatred. You also smell of death," he arched an eyebrow at him, inhaling deeper.

"I see," Tom narrowed his eyes. _The blasted vampire, and his damned vampire senses_. "Dumbledore and I have a very long history between us, that is not pleasant nor really concerns you. I'll put it this way: he has been meddling with and spoiling my life since the time I used to be a student here and he keeps doing so still," he hissed and gave the boy a pointed look, warning him to end this discussion.

"So it is his hobby, I see," Caligo nodded in understanding and sighed tiredly, looking down on his feet.

"I'd say it is his life work," Tom drawled, looking at the vampire intently. Had the old goat done something to Caligo as well? Had he already managed to alienate the boy? He was surely loosing his touch, making Tom's job all the easier for him.

**_enigma_**

The next morning Caligo entered Snape's office to meet with the Malfoys. Professor watched him carefully, making notes in his journal. He did look very tired and a little nervous, Caligo thought. Perhaps, he managed to overcome his desire after all. A few moments later Draco joined them and shot the vampire a glare, however, it wasn't as hateful as he hoped, to Caligo it seemed desperate. Despite himself, Draco was edging closer to him, his body craved physical contact. The blonde looked angry with himself and lost. Caligo couldn't help but pity him a little. He didn't know how their "relationship" would work and how far would the addiction go. But the thought of having a constant source of blood helped him get rid of any further doubts. He could safely feed now, without a fear of killing someone and being caught. Lucius stepped out of the fireplace and greeted Snape, shaking hands with his friend. He looked at the boys and, upon seeing Draco trying very hard not to lean on the vampire, he frowned and sighed.

"Are you ready, Draco, Mr Tenebris?" he asked, coming closer, and checked his son's neck. It was clean.

"I'm not hungry, I won't be touching Draco without his consent either," the vampire looked at him seriously, "And, please, sir, call me Caligo."

"Very well, Caligo," Lucius watched him through the narrowed eyes.

"Caligo, do keep taking notes of any changes in your condition," they heard Snape say from the other side of the office, where he had been rampaging through his potions stock, "Your feedings might form a pattern, your hunger might lessen, any changes that would transpire - I need to be informed as soon as possible," he came closer to them and gave Lucius a box full of identical vials with red liquid in them, "It's a blood-replenishing potion for Draco to take after each feeding. I'll brew more in a few days, this should be enough for the holidays, I think," he looked at Caligo pointedly.

"Thanks, Sev. Let's go," Draco muttered angrily and strode to the fireplace, determined to get as far away from the vampire as possible.

"Thank you, Severus," Lucius nodded to the potions master, "We are waiting for you to come for the New Year party, don't forget that," he smiled at him warmly.

"As if Narcissa would let me," Snape rolled his eyes. Gesturing for Caligo to follow, Lucius walked over to the fireplace and threw the powder inside. They both said their goodbyes to the professor and stepped into the flames calling for the Malfoy manor.

**_enigma_**

Caligo stepped into a spacious, well lit hall of white marble. Looking around curiously, he followed Lucius and Draco into the drawing room, the house elf took his trunk and disappeared. Entering the small, well furnished room, he saw a tall thin woman sitting on the sofa, drinking tea and paging through a magazine. When she raised her head to look at them, he instantly realized she was Narcissa, Draco's mother, their resemblance couldn't be missed. Pale, fair headed, thin and seemingly always tired, she looked like the classical pureblood lady that she was. Walking confidently towards her, Caligo bowed low and took her cool hand in his to place a kiss onto it. She smiled at him modestly.

"So you are the famous Mr Tenebris my husband was telling me all about," she squeezed his hand in hers lightly, "And you are the vampire that bewitched my son," her eyes grew colder but she still looked welcoming.

"I apologize, my lady," Caligo kissed her hand again, canceling his glamours and looking at her with his shinning golden eyes, "I never meant to hurt Draco and I didn't. My hunger is very hard to control, I hate the fact that your son was the one who helped to sate it. But I promise you, no harm would ever come to Draco from me."

"You promise?" she looked at him, fear and hope fighting to dominate her expression. Lucius, who stepped closer, also looked at him expectantly. Sensing their worry and distrust, Caligo sighed and kneeled before Narcissa.

"I swear on my magic and my life, that I would never intentionally hurt Draco and I would always protect him as my friend, since I don't like to think of him as a donor," he vowed and the magical binds shot seemingly out of nowhere and bound his and Narcissa's hands, burning their skin, shimmering with golden light and dissipating into nothingness. Stunned, all the three Malfoys stared at Caligo. Vampires never gave vows and never really protected their donors, simply because it was easy to find more.

"Tenebris, do you understand what you have just done?" Draco asked him incredulously, loosing his mask of boredom and staring at him in evident shock.

"Yes," Caligo said simply and rose up. Narcissa was watching him with wide wet eyes, full of awe and gratitude, "I am going to feed on you, Draco, you will be sharing your life force with me for a very long, long time, and you are the heir of your family, you have obligations and responsibilities - I cannot deprive you of your life and keep you in constant fear of death, can I? We must trust each other, for I would very much prefer to feed only on you," he smiled mischievously, "You are the most delicious wizard I have ever tasted." Draco blushed fiercely at that and both Lucius and Narcissa looked away, trying to hide the smiles that threatened to appear on their faces.

"Well, since we have such convincing guarantees, I believe we can welcome you with all honesty and hospitality to our home, Mr Tenebris" Lucius bowed his head at Caligo, also looking at him gratefully.

"Thank you, sir, and I appreciate your hospitality very much," Caligo smiled at him and his wife, watching the huffing Draco out of the corner of his eye. The fact that he promised to protect the blonde didn't mean he couldn't antagonize him and drive him insane. He smirked to himself. "And call me Caligo, please," he smiled wider, his eyes gleamed cunningly.

"Caligo - such a beautiful name," Narcissa smiled at him softly, "It means gloom, who named you in such unusual fashion?" she asked curiously.

"I was named after Caligula, the woman that found me at the steps of the orphanage decided Caligo was a better version of his scandalizing name," he smirked and both Narcissa and Lucius gave him vicious knowing smiles.

"Accept our condolences in regards of your mother's sudden and violent death," Lucius added, looking serious, "I am truly sorry you had to go through such tragedy, since you've spent most part of your life as an orphan."

"Thank you, but I will cope," he smiled at them softly, "I was always rather emotionless, and my vampire nature made me even less sensitive. I miss my mother dearly, for she was my only friend and confidant for the six years we lived together. I only hope I was a worthy son and she didn't think ill of me in her last minute."

"It is so sad to be left all alone again," Narcissa sighed, her gaze understanding and sorrowful, "But what of your financial situation? How would you provide for yourself?"

"As a vampire I couldn't have been adopted by blood into Tenebris family, however, I wear the heir ring, it didn't reject me," he turned the invisible ring on his left hand and showed them the shinning opal, "Artemida simply opened a new vault under Tenebris name, that was keyed solely to my blood, and transferred everything from her family vaults into it, so you shouldn't worry, I can provide for myself," he assured them.

"That was very inventive of her," Lucius noted, pleasantly surprised. It was believed that the famous Tenebris money and treasures were lost with the family's death thirty years ago, but Artemida proved to be the cunning and wise witch once again. Caligo might have become one of the richest purebloods in Britain.

"Yes, it was," Caligo smiled knowing very well what was Lucius thinking about.

"We would be having lunch soon. Draco, why won't you show Caligo to his room, it is right next to yours," Narcissa stood up, rearranging her heavy skirts, "Caligo, I hope you would find everything to your liking," she smiled at him. He nodded and followed the grumping Draco out of the room.

They walked up the grand marble staircase and onto the dark landing that led to two narrow corridors on their left and right. Draco turned left and stopped at one of the doors. Motioning with his hand, he ushered Caligo inside. His bedroom was huge, much bigger than the one he had in their house on the island. He and Artemida preferred to live modestly, since the town was small and nobody liked to throw their money around there. This room was rather gloomy, decorated with dark wood and dark grey fabrics, there was a calm and warm atmosphere to it which Caligo liked very much. Seeing his pleased face, Draco smirked smugly and informed him that his room was next down the corridor, on his left. Catching himself on being nice to the vampire, he frowned and left, slamming the door loudly behind him. Caligo only laughed at his antics. He opened his trunk and took out his casual robes for wearing at home. Artemida did train him to be the high-class pureblood, he always had a set of robes for every occasion with him. Remembering that all his other clothes must have burnt down with the house, he made a note to go to the Diagon Alley to buy himself a new garderobe.

**_enigma_**

Lucius and Narcissa sat at the dinning table, quietly discussing their guest and a "new family member", since they both realized that Draco wouldn't be able to live apart from his "friend" and Caligo would have to stay with them during the summers as well. Narcissa hated to think of him as her son's "master" and informed Lucius she'd rather think of the little vampire as an adoptive son or a nephew. Lucius wasn't that enthusiastic but never argued. It wasn't every day that the heir of the ancient and respected family got himself willingly enslaved by a bloodsucker, however he had to give his wife some credit, she accepted the situation bravely and reasonably. Of course Lucius blamed Caligo for his inability to control his creature side, but he also blamed Draco, who chose to give in to his desire so easily. He reminded Lucius so much of himself and even more of his father Abraxas, who also was rather reckless, and often placed his desires above reason and his family. Lucius, due to his strict upbringing and later maturing under Tom's wing, was a much more careful man, he knew when he had to stop, restrain himself and deny something to himself in order to avoid any possible problems or harsh consequences. To put it simply, he thought twice before rushing into action as a true slytherin and a Malfoy should.

Of course he and Narcissa were devastated the previous night, when he brought Draco home and told his mother what happened. Tom, who stopped by much later to check up on Draco, stoically endured or rather discreetly deflected all the curses Narcissa threw at him. He confessed that he was expecting such an outcome and assured them both that Draco would never suffer in his "servitude" until Caligo constantly fed on him and didn't reject him. Lucius understood perfectly well that Tom would have indeed forced Caligo on Draco sooner or later, to simply secure vampire's position and hide him behind the Malfoy name, should it be necessary. And since Caligo was a minor and lost his only guardian, it was imperative to give him home and keep him safe and away from the ministry, to keep up the charade of him being somewhere on the unplottable grounds, beyond the radar. Lucius' manor was a perfect place, indeed. Accepting his new unofficial charge was one matter, but Caligo's mysterious Sire was a different one altogether. Tom ignored the issue, his main argument was that if the Ancient wanted to take Caligo, he would have already done it. But Lucius feared everything wasn't that simple and he didn't believe Tom's seemingly careless regard for a second. Tom was a very intelligent man, very wise, he certainly knew or suspected something and was preparing for it. Only he hadn't told Lucius and it irritated the Malfoy patriarch to no end.

Their discussion faltered as they heard Draco's voice in the hall. He was leading Caligo into the dinning room, navigating him around the manor and bossily explaining the way he was supposed to behave himself in their family. Rolling their eyes at their son's antics simultaneously, Lucius and Narcissa smiled at each other knowingly. It was completely unnecessary to explain to the Tenebris heir just how a pureblood was supposed to behave. Caligo was trained marvelously. They turned their heads to see the vampire enter in a whirl of blood red robes, that brought out his golden eyes effectively, in the contrast with his deep black unruly hair. Although the red and the golden were gryffindor colours, they looked very menacing and enchanting on the vampire. He bowed respectfully and gave them a small smile, baring his long sharp fangs. Without the glamours and masks of pretense Caligo looked astonishingly beautiful and alluring, the air around him seem to be thicker and sweeter, tempting to come closer, to touch.

Lucius straightened his back and took a deep breath to calm himself. Yes, it was indeed hard to resist such a force, and the boy was only fourteen! Lucius dreaded to imagine just what would he become when he reached his maturity. Narcissa caught her breath, watching Caligo seat down at the table, being constantly pestered by Draco. She gave him a strained smile, while her eyes burnt with an indecipherable emotion. Lucius could relate to that. Nevertheless, he found it endearing to see just how easily the vampire ignored Draco's antics, masterfully shutting him up and smoothly changing the topics of their conversation, that was practically one-sided. Lucius noticed that Caligo was a very quiet boy, an observer, a survivor as Tom called him. Innocently smiling and keeping his eyes on his plate, he carefully watched everyone's moves and listened closely, very closely it seemed. When the vampire smelt the air, tilting his head a little to the side, Lucius realized he was reading their scents and listening to heir heartbeats. The notion sent shivers down his spine - despite his vow the harmlessly looking boy was a vicious predator. However, he was the sanest and most civilized vampire that Lucius had ever met. Caligo even ate his lunch, which they thoughtfully made very plain: raw meat with a lot of blood. It couldn't sate his hunger but it was much easier for him to digest than the ordinary human food.

"Caligo, I think Draco hasn't told you yet, we are having a ball on the New Year's night," Narcissa finally pulled herself together and decided to distract herself with a talk.

"He hasn't indeed," Caligo looked at Draco disapprovingly. He had to endure yet another ball and felt very annoyed about it, "Do I have to attend?" he asked hopelessly.

"I am afraid you do," Lucius answered, "You would have to wear the glamours, of course, however, you are free to be yourself outside the ball and the visits that could transpire in the future," he smiled at the boy. Understanding his distress he added, "Our ball is nothing like that atrocity that was held at Hogwarts. There would be dancing, of course, but nobody forces you into it, so don't worry."

"All our guests are very influential, prominent wizards and witches from different countries, they all are very interesting and I'm sure you would find somebody to talk to," Narcissa piped in, "Besides, Tom, Mr Riddle, wished for you to attend, I think he wants to show off his champion," she smiled at him knowingly, her eyes shining mirthfully.

"I see," Caligo nodded. Of course Riddle was behind this. One of his schemes of persuading him to join the party. Draco, who was quietly listening to their conversation, perked up at the mentioning of Tom and glared at Caligo, narrowing his eyes.

"Why is Tom so keen on you, I don't understand," he sneered at the vampire. Caligo rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation.

"Draco, how many times do I have to tell you to stop being jealous? Mr Riddle and I are simply bound by the damned Tournament and nothing else," he drawled nonchalantly, looking at the blonde pointedly. Draco huffed in annoyance.

"It is my understanding, Caligo, that Mr Riddle wants you to join our party," Lucius said, giving him a meaningful glance. They both knew what Tom wanted from him.

"Yes, but I haven't said yes yet and I need more time to decide," Caligo nodded.

"Then the ball would be all the more interesting for you," Narcissa smiled, "Many party members are attending, you would have a unique opportunity to meet them and get all the information you want." Caligo raised his eyebrows at that, looking curious and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. It was indeed a unique opportunity for him.

"And why would he want you, a teenager, to join the party?" Draco asked incredulously, staring at the vampire dumbly.

"Because Caligo is a vampire, a higher vampire, he could be very useful to the party's cause, Draco," Lucius explained, glaring at his son warningly.

Draco was indeed very jealous of Tom, it wasn't healthy, for sometimes his jealousy seemed far from a friendly one. Lucius feared that Draco might had fallen yet another victim to Tom's charm and beauty, and he hadn't even seen him without his glamours once. He sighed tiredly. Perhaps, Draco's addiction to Caligo would help him overcome his interest in Tom and grow out of his childish obsession. Vampires' slaves eventually fell in love with their masters, emotionally depended on them. It was sad that his son would fall for the cold bloodsucker but at least the boy wouldn't reject his feelings and would care for him, unlike Tom, who never let anybody get close to him and didn't care for how many hearts he broke. Tom was grooming Draco to take Lucius' place when he would die, he never saw him as anything else but his future follower and advisor.

"Whatever," Draco huffed and angrily attacked his dessert. Caligo only smiled at him.

"Don't forget about our beautiful garden!" Narcissa smoothly turned the conversation back to the ball, "You haven't been outside yet, Caligo, and I'm sure Draco would give you a little tour," she pinned her son with a pointed look, "We have a marvelous rose maze that blooms even in winter. On the night of the ball we usually have impressive fireworks outside and we lit up hundreds of bonfires so that our guests could enjoy the maze and the fresh air," she smiled at Caligo endearingly.

"Sounds marvelous," Caligo said honestly. He could easily spend the whole night at the maze, away from all the dancing and chatting, it was perfect. Narcissa smirked at him proudly.

After lunch Draco reluctantly took Caligo outside. They slowly walked through the maze and Caligo felt that his head was spinning, the wonderful smell of many roses filled his nostrils and clouded his mind. He felt a little drunk. Perhaps, it was some kind of magic in these flowers, he thought. Draco, who was also affected by the irresistible aroma, began telling the vampire of his family history and history of this manor, trying to overcome his weakness and craving for the contact. However, when they stopped to sit down on the stone bench, Caligo found his arms full of Draco, who was trying very hard to sneer at him and showered him with insults, yet he kept pressing closer. Caligo only smiled at the boy and embraced him tightly, reveling in the heat his body produced. Draco fell silent and dropped his head onto Caligo's shoulder, sighing heavily. The vampire stroked his hair, carding his long fingers deep into the silky locks. The blonde boy snuggled even closer to him and purred contentedly next to his ear. Caligo found he enjoyed their position very much.

**_enigma_**

Lucius found them later in the same state, both had almost fallen asleep, lulled by the shared warmth. He watched them for a while, bemused that his son could feel so relaxed and secure in the arms of a bloodsucking murderer. Caligo, who was stroking his hair affectionately, looked so human and so sweet, it was hard to imagine him crawling in the darkness, hunting down his unfortunate victims. When Lucius took another step forward, the vampire raised his head and looked at him sleepily. Smiling, Lucius came closer and shook Draco on his shoulder gently. Draco looked up and stirred in the vampire's embrace lazily. Caligo helped him up and let go of him. Coming back to his senses, Draco groaned angrily at the realization of just how he spent the last two hours and with whom. He quickly strode to the manor, not looking back. At Lucius' sigh Caligo stepped closer to him and looked at him with those bright mesmerizing golden eyes of his.

"Don't worry for him, he would come around, eventually," he smiled dreamily, "I'll be needing to feed soon," he said mostly to himself and followed Draco. Lucius could only sigh again.

After dinner Caligo found Draco at the library. The boy sat on the windowsill with a thick book in his hands, however, he wasn't reading, he was watching the dimly lit garden instead, lost in his thoughts. He didn't hear Caligo approach, the vampire soundlessly walked close to him and gently placed his hand on the thin shoulder. Draco jerked, frightened, and stared at him warily. Caligo stroke his shoulder and then moved his hand to rub his back soothingly. Silent, the blonde watched him and didn't move away from the touch. The vampire reached out with his other hand to caress the pale cheek. At the featherlight touch of his cold fingers Draco blushed and averted his eyes. Caligo kept rubbing his back, reveling in the boy's sweet scent. Finally, Draco surrendered and reached out to circle his arms around other boy's waist.

Smiling viciously, Caligo pressed closer to his warm body and buried his nose into the blonde locks. Inhaling deeply, he kissed the boy's head and moved down to kiss his ear. Draco moaned helplessly and turned his face to catch the kiss on his cheek. Laughing softly, Caligo placed another kiss on the tender skin and another on the corner of the moist lips. "Kiss me," he heard the boy whisper. Feeling his predatory side taking over him again, Caligo gave him a feral smile, baring his fangs that seemed even longer now. "I am hungry, Draco, what would you give me for a kiss?" he murmured deeply, watching the boy hungrily. Gasping, as the vampire tagged on his hair, Draco tilted his head to the side, and pulled closer to Caligo, baring his neck. Moaning at the sight, the vampire immediately plunged his teeth into the sensitive skin, sucking on it slowly, rubbing the boy's back. Moaning and whimpering loudly, Draco shifted in his arms, trying to deepen the bite, to intensify the pleasure. Caligo's eyes rolled back in ecstasy and he bit deeper into the tender throat. The boy's blood was unbearably sweet, and his magic so dark and thick, of such a rich texture, he thought he could suck him forever.

But he had to stop himself, he knew he would have to be careful with Draco, drinking too much of his blood could hurt him and weaken him drastically. Pulling reluctantly away, he licked on the wounds, caressing the swollen skin with his tongue, drawing all the more moans out of Draco's throat. He turned to look into the boy's face, whose eyes were glazed with lust and pleasure. Smiling, Caligo licked the blood off of his lips and pressed them against Draco's. The boy froze at the unexpected contact, but then parted his lips to press harder. Caligo licked on them with his tongue, and they parted even more, inviting him in. Excited, he pushed his tongue inside roughly and took away a loud moan that tried to escape Draco's lips. It was Caligo's first kiss but he felt he was doing the right thing. Pushing his tongue deeper in, he licked on the wet hot inside of Draco's mouth, teasing the boy's tongue, sucking on it slightly. Kissing felt very wet and very pleasing, he thought. Draco moaned again and again, deepening their kiss and sucking on his lips desperately. Caligo pushed one of his hands against he boy's groin and moved lower to rub his arousal. Draco pulled out of the kiss harshly, gasping for air and rolling his eyes back in ecstasy. He needed only a few strokes to come. Caligo smiled smugly, as the boy dropped his head on his shoulder, panting and groaning in his release. "You are so sweet, Draco," he murmured into the blonde's ear. Draco only sighed pleasantly into his chest. Caligo kissed him on the lips chastely and silently walked away, leaving the elated and satisfied blonde to lie on the windowsill, breathing deeply. The vampire knew Narcissa was watching them, but he never showed his awareness. She needed to see this, to make sure that Draco was safe with Caligo.

**_enigma_**

"Wetherby!" Tom barked out of his office, seeing the redhead dart past the open door in the hope to stay unnoticed. The boy stopped abruptly and hesitantly peeked in and, coughing lightly, looked at the menacing form of the Senior Undersecretary, who was seated behind his desk.

"S-sir?" he bleated meekly, looking around the office fearfully, dreading to find Barty inside. Tom held out a thick stack of papers in his direction not looking up from the file he was reading, "Barty is not here. Yet. Take these to the Minister and make him read and sign everything."

"Y-yes, sir," the redhead gulped at the notion that Barty was going to appear any time now. He quickly moved forward, took the papers with shaking hands and darted back to the door. Tom waved at him and he vanished instantly.

The Ministry was still in a state of shock after what happened to Diggle and the air itself felt heavier and thicker these past days, with everybody fearfully glaring at each other, quietly whispering in small tight groups, trembling at the sight of yet another auror squad going out for a check up. Bones, feeling helpless, spent all her time out in the field or in Tom's office when he sometimes stopped there to read what Barty sorted out for him. The Head of DMLE was practically eating from his hand, blindly obeying his orders veiled as advices and hints. Bones wasn't a stupid woman, nor was she weak, she was simply inexperienced and unprepared for what was going to happen according to Tom's plans, so she took everything she could to maintain the illusion of peace, as long as he was willing to let her. The Dark Army hadn't attacked anyone just yet, working with muggles instead - two more small incidents transpired during the last two days. Nothing serious, they simply initiated yet another fight between muggles and wizards, just like the last time. None of the attacked wizards died, all muggles had been arrested and gave the same old reasons, during their interrogations, to why they assaulted those particular people. Hatred for the abnormality, freakishness. Of course both incidents were described in the Daily Prophet, despite the editor's wish to cover them up - the public had the right to know about such serious crimes against their community, Tom thought.

Stretching, Tom got up and took the stack of invitation cards and letters from the many employees and prominent families that he received and threw them into the litter bin. Everybody wanted to have the Senior Undersecretary at their New Year party, but he never agreed to come before, nor was he going to now. He had always attended Malfoy's New Year balls, that were the most grandiose, expensive and richest events in the british wizarding community. Everybody dreamt to get an invitation, but only few were ever chosen. The Malfoy's ball wasn't an ordinary social gathering for drinks and rumors - most of his followers and supporters from all over Europe usually attended, and more connections and deals were made between them and the party during the evening. This year wasn't an exception. Besides, the little vampire was going to be there as well, Tom mused. Lucius told him that Draco was fighting his addiction like mad but had already fed Caligo three times anyway. Tom smirked to himself. The little ferret wouldn't be able to hold on against such force any longer. Walking out of his office he was intercepted by Fudge.

"Tom! Tom, good, you're still here. You are attending the ball at the Malfoy manor tomorrow, right?" the fat ball of a man puffed out, tagging him on the sleeve of his robe.

"I am, sir," Tom greeted out. Yes, he enjoyed Lucius' New Year Balls but they always had one big flaw: the minister.

"I thought so. Tell me, how many aurors should I take with me as personal guards?" Fudge gave him an inquiring look. Since Diggle's death the minister never went anywhere without an entourage, that consisted of three huge aurors who were rather harmless and absolutely useless against the Dark Army, but, of course, Fudge couldn't know that.

"Malfoy manor has one of the most ancient and strongest sets of wards in Britain, sir, they are impenetrable. You wouldn't need any guards, besides, the wizards and witches, that are attending, are capable of defending themselves very well, and you have me, sir," Tom drawled, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"Oh? Good, good, Tom, you are right, of course," Fudge looked thoughtful for a second but his face quickly morphed back into the usual stupid expression and for a second Tom wondered if he was hallucinating. "And, Tom, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Cornelius? We're friends, we should be calling each other by our given names," he added cheerfully, winking at his Undersecretary.

"Yes, sir," Tom bit out. _When Hell freezes over._

"By the way," Fudge leaned closer to him, as they walked out into the main hall, "Ludo's been making preliminary bets on the Tournament," he whispered conspiratorially, looking around suspiciously, "You know the deal, you've seen those lads, who's going to win in your opinion? I know you have a good eye," he winked at his Undersecretary again. Tom closed his eyes resentfully - he despised gambling and totalizators and thought it to be an indecent hobby for a wizard who had at least a little amount of self-respect, which Fudge, clearly, didn't have.

"You know I don't bet, sir," he sighed, but the minister clung onto his arm.

"Come on, Tom, I am certain you know," the fat idiot whaled, cringing at random glances from the passers by.

"Fine," Tom growled, "Bet everything on Tenebris."

"Your champion?" Fudge's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he stared at Tom, "But he is like... I've never even heard of him before the Tournament, he is so young and looks rather..." he mumbled incoherently, "But what about Krum? He is a famous seeker already, looks very promising!" Fudge added hastily.

"You asked my opinion, sir, you got it. Tenebris is going to win, bet on Krum if you wish" Tom spat. Of course Caligo would win the bloody tournament, he had no doubts that Artemida tutored the boy as the future heir of Tenebris family, he was already far ahead of the other participants and had the advantage of being an emotionless cold-blooded murderer. It was useless to deny the obvious.

"Tom, I always knew you had it in you, the competitive streak," Fudge nudged him on the elbow playfully, wriggling his eyebrows at the man, "I bet you're going to make sure your boy wins," he winked conspiratorially at him and danced away to shake hands with some stranger.

"You have no idea," Tom sneered at his back and quickly strode to the lifts, grumping under his nose in irritation.

**_enigma_**

Tom was walking down the white marble hall of Malfoy manor. This place became his home as much as his own manor, which had its own charm of a haunted empty house and a murder scene. Only Tom and his house elf lived there. Malfoy manor was always full of life and action, as long as he remembered. It was always occupied by the countless guests that seemed to practically live in it, the hordes of house elves cleaned and cooked tirelessly and readily submitted to any whims of their masters. And nothing had really changed, it seemed the manor was going to stay in this routine just like Tom was going to stay young - forever. He walked past the many doors and entered the tall heavy oak doors of the ballroom. The grandiose airy space was crammed with guests; their rich and thick dresses and robes rustled, brushing against each other; their voices echoed, bouncing off of the marble walls; their faces had a waxy feeling to them under the eerie light of thousands of candles, soaring lightly under the high domed ceiling, decorated with frescos of the scenes from Dante's Divine Comedy. Tom slowly strode forward, intently watching the faces he was passing by, remembering every name, automatically running through an imaginary file in his mind, refreshing his memory, reassessing the information on each and every one of them. Not many of the present were truly valuable, fewer were intelligent and interesting personally.

He met the eyes of the Lestrange brothers, and nodded silently. They nodded as well and turned back to their conversations. Tom saw Nott and Avery drinking heavily at the tables, Mulciber was nowhere in sight but he knew the man was here already, perhaps, shoving the food into his bottomless pit of a stomach. Most of his closest followers, his Inner Circle, were here. Severus was occupied by an old witch from Russia, and looked as he always did - disgusted and deadly bored. Tom liked Severus very much for his honesty and lack of fear to show his true feelings towards others, it was hard to imagine somebody like him being the most successful spy and the unbeatable liar. Not to mention that the man was a master of occlumency and legilimency. He watched the numerous faces of the guests and thought that if only he could gather all those who opposed him at one event like this one, it would have been so easy to eliminate them once and for all and get rid of all the obstacles that stood in his way.

Sighing inwardly at his fruitless dreaming he took a glass of champagne from one of the house elves and sipped on it, savoring the sweetly sour taste on his tongue. Walking further he looked around in the search of the hosts. He noticed the flash of long blonde hair on his right. Turning, he smirked - of course Lucius was occupied by Fudge, who loved to listen to the blonde's endless arse licking compliments. Tom shook his head: he sometimes envied Lucius in how stoically and seemingly easily he could stand stupid awful people like Fudge, chatting with them for hours, with a sweet smile never leaving his face. Malfoy threw his long heavy hair back again, gaining envious glares from the crowd surrounding him. Smiling slightly, Tom turned away and sipped on his drink. He saw Narcissa coming his way, her long thick skirts' tails dragging behind her - she looked ethereal in white, reminding Tom of a dead princess from a fairy tale.

"Oh, Tom, so good to finally have you here!" she always smiled sincerely at him, always so welcoming and warm, Tom smiled back despite himself. "The dancing would start soon, you're just in time, as usual," she took him on the arm and stirred him gently to the center of the room.

"I see the party is a success as always," he drawled, sipping on his champagne on the way.

"Of course," she scoffed, laughing at him.

They approached the small group whom Tom recognized as the german party of the Free Black Mages, who were struggling against the prejudices to the dark and especially black magic. They were eager to get to know the Knights of Walpurgis better but there was nothing they could offer Tom yet, so he wasn't actively looking for their alliance. He himself had been practicing black magic for more than thirty years already, he doubted there was anything that they could teach him. Smiling tightly he allowed to pull himself into a conversation which he paid little attention. He was watching the crowd out of the corner of his eye. Somebody mentioned Grindelwald and they began discussing his failed campaign, the advantages and disadvantages of his cause. Inwardly groaning, Tom started his second glass. He knew all this very well, better than the most, since he grew up during Grindelwald's reign and saw everything the man had done personally, as well as his grand demise at the wand of the old goat Dumbledore. He shamelessly looked away, watching the room instead of participating in the conversation.

He saw Draco save Severus from the persistent witch and stir his real godfather away from her and to the tables. Severus was, no doubt, a much better godfather and mentor than Tom himself was - he had actual feelings towards his godson, cared for the boy greatly. There was warmth in his eyes when he looked at him, surely, just like Draco's parents, he enjoyed spoiling the boy. Tom liked the ferret, just as he liked his other followers, never feeling anything towards them. Watching the two laughing, he smirked to himself - the vampire was nowhere in sight. He looked away, searching for the bloodsucker in the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen. Tom frowned, he wanted the boy to be here, to talk to his followers, to get some insight on what his party was doing, but the brat was hiding somewhere. He was surely well fed, there was no reason for him to feel uncomfortable among the humans. Tom turned to Narcissa.

"Where is Caligo?"

"I told him he would enjoy the ball and would be able to talk to the party members but he never stayed. I think he went into the maze," she sighed helplessly, "He's so good to Draco, it is still hard to wrap my mind around the idea but... He is a very sweet boy but too quiet and secretive. I am afraid I would never be able to tell if something is bothering him. I think he went away because he was disturbed by something," she whispered into Tom's ear as they slowly walked away from the wizards.

"He did feed, didn't he?" Tom narrowed his eyes in irritation.

"Yes, just before the ball. I honestly don't know what is going on," she shook her head and shrugged apologetically, "I'm sorry, Tom. Lucius tried to find him but the Minister got in the way..."

"It's fine, Cissy, I will find him and bring him back here," Tom growled and, downing his glass, strode to the open doors leading into the garden. However, when he was already at the threshold, somebody's strong hand grabbed him on the arm. Annoyed by the audacity of the gesture he turned to glare at the idiot that dared to touch him and found himself face to face with Bellatrix, Narcissa's sister and one of his fanatic followers.

"Bella," he greeted out, cursing his luck.

"Master," she whispered obsequiously, tightening her grip, "You haven't graced us with your presence for so long," her black eyes looked at him insanely, adoringly.

"Yes, well, now you saw me, Bella, I have some business to attend to," he sighed, itching to crucio her right here and right now.

"But master," she cringed looking into his face searchingly, "Please," she begged, and suddenly the music began to play and everybody hurried to take their places at the dance floor to waltz. Seeing determination in her face, Tom snatched his arm out of her hands, pushing her away while nobody was watching them.

"Keep your hands away, Bella," he hissed at her, enraged, and his eyes turned red. She squeaked fearfully and almost kneeled, forgetting where she was. "Get up and leave my sight that instant. Go dance with your husband or I will crucio you into oblivion," he growled menacingly and in a whirl of black robes left her, quickly running down the stairs and into the dark maze.

**_enigma_**

Caligo and Draco entered the ballroom, both feeling sated and very pleased. Caligo had just fed on the boy, giving him yet another orgasm. Slightly pink in the face, Draco walked swaying from side to side, smiling like mad, smoothing his green robes all the while, trying to occupy his hands with something. Caligo glided a little behind him, dragging the long tail of dark scarlet robe behind him, watching everybody impassively. The sweet copper taste still lingered on his tongue and he licked his lips from time to time, thinking that he might feed on Draco again at night, just a little quick suck. When he found himself among the crowd of wizards and witches he realized he wasn't really ready to talk right now. Since he got up this morning he had this heavy, nagging feeling of premonition pressing on his chest. Recognizing it as the same one he experienced almost two weeks ago, when Artemida died, he knew something bad was going to happen again. Thinking about it, he came to a conclusion that these premonitions must be one of his mysterious vampire powers. He had no idea how to develop this ability further, to learn to control it. The closer it got to the evening, the more anxious he felt. He wasn't even that hungry, he fed in hope that the blood would help him relax, but it only intensified his anticipation. Gulping down a glass of champagne, he skillfully escaped the watchful eye of Narcissa, who was adamant to make him socialize tonight, and ran into the maze, hiding behind its high hedges. He slowly walked through the deep shadows, the bonfires gave little light to overcome them. Drunk on the roses' aroma he hadn't noticed how he reached the center of the maze, where in the small clearing a small stone fountain stood. It looked like a crying angel, torn and scratched by the sharp thorns of roses that grew all over his body. He watched the statue dumbly, trying to decipher if it was a hallucination or not.

"You are very hard to find, my child," he heard the familiar voice behind. Only the familiarity of the voice wasn't pleasant at all. Slowly he turned to look back, his glamours already down.

"Noctis," he whispered. The vampire stood a few steps away, leaning onto the hedge, twirling a rose in his hands. He looked just like Caligo remembered him. Short black hair pushed back, plain pale face looking sick and tired, golden eyes shining brightly in the moonlight.

"Caligo, my child," Noctis drawled, his voice was deep but had this raspy, trembling quality to it, that often made Caligo think the vampire rarely talked if never at all. "I promised you we would meet one day," he smiled at the boy viciously and stepped closer.

"Not the most pleasant meeting, I must admit," Caligo took a step back, watching him carefully.

"You've grown so much," his maker watched him hungrily, proudly, "Such a beautiful, beautiful boy," he licked his lips and took another step forward.

"Stay away, Noctis," Caligo hissed and backed away from him, stopping abruptly when he felt the cold stone of the fountain press against his legs.

"Why?" Noctis tilted his head and gave him a perplexed look, "I am your Sire, your maker, I can't stay away."

"Where have you been all these years then? You left me, never even contacted me, then you suddenly popped out of nowhere and killed my mother and now you expect me to run into your arms?" Caligo raised his eyebrows, staring at him incredulously.

"That witch was never your mother!" Noctis spat, narrowing his eyes at the boy angrily, "She had no right to take you, you were and are mine," he growled and in a flash appeared very close to the little vampire, towering over him.

"Then why did you leave me?" Caligo demanded, feeling his temper flow. The nerve of this man!

"I had to do it, you were an experiment, you were supposed to either be killed or create chaos, instead you hid away with that old hag of yours, like a coward, drinking that pathetic potion. When had it stopped working for you, hm?" Noctis hissed menacingly, grabbing Caligo on the throat, "When? Because I can smell fresh blood on you, you are clearly feeding on humans," he pressed his nose against the boy's cheek and inhaled deeply, snarling at the scent.

"An experiment!" Caligo spat, trying to push the older vampire away, but he stood hard as a stone, "Well, sorry for not meeting your expectations, Noctis," he greeted out sarcastically and glared at him hatefully.

"You are too rebellious, too uncontrollable," Noctis sneered, "I anticipated you would loose control and would go on a killing spree, you were such a cruel child. But I see that everything is even worse now. You do not recognize me as your master," he squeezed his throat hard and leaning very close, that their noses touched, he whispered angrily, "Nevertheless, child, you belong to me, and I will take you with me, to train you and make you into what you were supposed to become."

"I don't think so," Caligo said coldly, "I am a wizard, Noctis, and I am a vampire, I live in this society and I have no intention to leave any time soon."

"Yes, that ridiculous school of yours," Noctis rasped out a low laugh, "That hadn't even taught you that you don't need a bloody wand to wield your magic," he let go of him and stepped back to get a better look. "And do you honestly think you would be able to live in peace in this world, where vampires are hated and shunned like some scum, when they are, in fact, the top of the food chain?"

"Yes," Caligo said simply, thinking about Malfoys and the way he was accepted into their family. Noctis laughed at him, shaking his head as if he was talking to a five year old.

"You are arrogant, my child, always was and always will be," he smiled at Caligo fondly, "I don't blame you for becoming what you are now, the witch spoiled you, made you soft, and these wizards they like you, they talk about you as the new boy-wonder," he laughed to himself, looking at the boy in amusement, "You are still young, my dear, still too naive. This world would only harm you, would only break you and throw you away like garbage."

"I can change that, there are people who want to change that," Caligo said, watching Noctis carefully, slowly moving around the fountain, trying to enlarge the distance between them.

"Ah, those parties that constantly form during the years and slowly decay in the lack of activity, simply because they are too weak and useless? I've seen enough of those in my long life, child, I wouldn't get my hopes too high if I were you. The history usually repeats itself, you know that," Noctis smiled at him widely, baring his fangs.

"How did you get in here through the wards?" Caligo asked, having suddenly realized that everybody inside was in danger. He didn't care for their lives, he cared for his own. Should the bloodbath occur, he would be the one to blame, Noctis would surely set him up.

"There are no anti-vampire wards around the grounds, so it was rather easy," Noctis drawled, "However, there are anti-vampire wards around the manor and very ancient, strong ones, ones that cannot be penetrated. Unless somebody would invite me in," he looked at Caligo pointedly.

"Sorry, can't, you should speak to the host," Caligo replied, inwardly sighing. Now Noctis would surely try to make him invite him inside and everything would end very badly and messily. He felt a hand grab on his hair and tag on it harshly.

"You should have more respect for me, child, I would not tolerate you impudence," he heard a low growl against his throat and the sharp fangs penetrated his skin, ripping into the artery. He cringed at the pain and burning that transpired around the bite. Noctis sucked his blood, moaning, squeezing him in a tight embrace. "My sweet, sweet child, I missed you so much," he whispered against his skin and plunged into his throat again, sucking on it harshly, urgently. Caligo wriggled in his arms, hissing at the hurting. They heard the music appear in the distance and Noctis raised his head up, listening in, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Dance with me, my little one, let's waltz as we should, celebrate one more year of your endless life," he purred and pressed the boy against his body, circling his arm around the narrow waist, grabbing on his hand. Caligo helplessly hang in his strong hold, not able to get away. Noctis swayed them from side to side and led Caligo into circling around the fountain, humming to the music, looking at him in fascination. "This shade of red suits you so well, my darling," he murmured, turning faster and faster, flashing a feral smile at the boy.

**_enigma_**

Tom quickly strode through the maze, feeling very annoyed and angry. He needed to get rid of the pressure, to relax; he itched to torture someone, it usually helped a lot. Muttering to himself he stopped abruptly, as he felt familiar aura of the little vampire and somebody else's, quite similar to Caligo's. He quickly disillusioned himself with a parsel spell, covering his aura and smell as well. Slowly he approached the clearing in the center of the maze. Caligo was dancing, or rather he was danced by a very ordinary looking man, but Tom wasn't fooled. His aura told him the man was a vampire, an Ancient. And judging by the way he held the boy, how he smiled at him and talked to him, it was Caligo's Sire. _So he found him._ Tom felt rage burn in his chest. He stepped closer to take a better look at the boy. Caligo looked livid. He was clearly struggling in the tight grip and was shooting the older vampire hateful glares.

"Come now, Caligo, you can't fight me forever," Noctis laughed mirthfully at his own joke and kissed the boy on the cheek, "You look so sweet when you are angry, I've already told you before, when we met for the first time," he kissed Caligo on the cheek again, laughing softly, "My little Caligula, my little emperor," he pressed their lips together and forced his tongue inside Caligo's mouth. The boy bit him on it and Noctis pulled away harshly, glaring at him playfully.

"You are a fiery one, aren't you? I always knew you would be hard to please and to love," he laughed and assaulted his mouth again, biting deeper inside, drawing blood. Tom was watching the scene very calmly, he always felt so calm before blowing up and killing everything living around him. This was just too much. Caligo was his, nobody was going to take his vampire from him. He had no love interest for the boy, but he wasn't going to let some filthy Ancient vampire sway him away with his petty seduction techniques.

"Let me go!" Caligo roared, tearing himself away from the kiss and pushing his magic forth. With a flash of light and a shift in the air, he pushed Noctis away, sent him flying right into the hedge. "I have no master, Noctis" he spat, sitting on the ground, panting harshly. Noctis stood on his fours, growling lowly like a dog, baring his sharp teeth. But before he could move, he felt something change in the atmosphere.

"I wouldn't suggest you to attack the boy again," the deep baritone drawled on his left and the thick oily darkness enveloped him in a strangling embrace. Noctis turned to meet the blood red eyes glowing menacingly in the shadows. Tom took a step forward, his glamours down, looking his young self. Caligo stared at him in awe and bewilderment.

"What are you?" Noctis hissed, crawling closer, slowly loosing his resemblance to a human being. His features sharpened and his face seemingly constricted, taking on an ugly, predatory expression. He smelt the air, and pushed his tongue out to taste the darkness around him.

"What am I you would find out soon, but right now all you should know is that Caligo Tenebris doesn't belong to you. If you don't leave willingly, I would make you. And please, indulge me in resisting a little, I really need to curse something now," he hissed coldly, his words sounded hollow and cut like a knife. Caligo felt shivers ran down his spine. This was what the true Dark Lord Voldemort looked and felt like, this was the master of darkness, the leader of the dark side. The boy swallowed hard and shifted closer. He felt like Riddle's darkness was pulling him in, caressing him gently, holding tightly.

"You are not completely human... curious," Noctis narrowed his eyes at the wizard and stood up, morphing his face back to his plain mask, "What is in it for you? Why do you care what happens to the boy?" he tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips into a thin line.

"This doesn't concern you, Ancient. Leave," Tom commanded, looking furious. The air around them turned cold and complete darkness veiled everything around them, cutting off any sounds. Noctis looked around in fascination.

"You are a very powerful man," he said quietly, "However, you are no authority for me, so if you want me to leave... make me," he smirked at the wizard. But Tom only smiled at him, almost gratefully.

"**Lux vincit mortem**" he hissed in parseltongue and aimed his open palms at the vampire. The ray of light irrupted out of them and hit Noctis in the chest. Screeching in pain, he glared at Tom hatefully and dissipated into the shadows. Caligo, blinded by the bright flash, squeezed his eyes and rubbed on them, trying to get rid of the white spots dancing before him. He felt cool hands touch his face and pull his hands away from the eyes. A pleasantly cold palm covered them and he sighed contentedly. Thumbs rubbed on his eyelids and he felt he could finally raise them. Opening his eyes he met the sight of a very young beautiful face, sculpted so delicately and masterfully, it seemed that every curve was carved with outmost care and love. He caught his breath as he met the bright blood red eyes looking intently into his golden ones.

"Can you see clearly now?" he heard the deep familiar voice. It was Riddle, there was no mistake in that, he simply looked twenty years old, or even younger. Caligo nodded and involuntarily leaned into the touch of the hands that were still holding him. "Good, we must go back to the ball and stay inside," Tom said calmly and stood up, looking at the vampire expectantly. Caligo rose to his feet, and looked around, still feeling the darkness around him, touching him. He reached out his hand and felt a tendril brush against it gently.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered to the darkness unevenly. Tom, who had already moved to leave, turned at that, looking perplexed. Was the boy talking to him or to his aura? He felt Caligo's soft, caressing touch on his darkness and saw the little vampire smile at it sincerely.

"Let's go," he called out, deciding to file away this particular scene for the further consideration. Now he needed to concentrate on the Ancient named Noctis. He was very powerful and completely inhuman, his ordinary appearance was a strong difficult glamour, he was a beast. What Tom knew so far, was that Caligo and his Sire shared magic, and that meant that if he could find out what were the boy's powers, he could find the flaws as well and use them against the Ancient; there was also a high possibility that Caligo could turn into a creature, loosing his humanity, this was something for Severus to work on - they could find more ways of destroying the Ancients should Noctis bring his company next time.

"Thank you for saving me," he heard Caligo say quietly, as they walked out of the maze and Tom applied his glamours back.

"I told you I would protect you from him," Tom said simply.

"You are a parselmouth, aren't you? And you are immortal," Caligo looked at him curiously.

"Blood isn't the only source of eternal life," Tom looked back at him, surprisingly enjoying the absence of fear in the boy's eyes. There were only curiousity and respect, and something else. "Yes, I am a parselmouth. Strange to hear you know of it, since it is one of the rarest gifts and I am the last one of its bearers, not many are aware of its existence at all."

"I know many things," Caligo said softly.

"Clearly," Tom agreed. They entered the ballroom to the sounds of another dance.

**_enigma_**

Lucius saw the two of them enter the room. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. He felt the wards being penetrated but seeing Tom running out into the darkness he decided to wait, perhaps, it wasn't an intruder but somebody who was expected. But Tom was absent for much longer than Lucius anticipated and he was ready to go outside with his wand at ready, when he finally returned along with the boy. Caligo looked paler than he already was and Tom's eyes bore the murderous gleam in them. Frowning, Malfoy came closer to them, stirring them to the side discreetly, pushing glasses into their hands for pretense's sake. He put up a silencing ward around them and glared at Tom expectantly.

"What happened? Caligo where have you been? Somebody penetrated the wards, Tom, what is going on?" he hissed hastily, looking between the two silent men.

"My Sire came here," Caligo finally elaborated, "The manor is protected, don't worry, I would never invite him inside, however, someone else can," he looked into his glass trying to avoid meeting Lucius eyes.

"He found you here? But this is impossible, nobody knew..." Lucius stared at them incredulously. An Ancient was roaming his garden. Now, judging by Tom's look, the vampire was very upset and angry and who knew what would he do to get his creation back?

"How he found him doesn't matter," Tom drawled calmly, sipping on his drink, "I got rid of him for the time being. I will stay the night and put up the anti-vampire wards around the grounds in the morning. He might not be able to get inside the manor, but he would surely catch anyone who walks outside and make them invite him."

"He must be a very powerful wizard if he penetrated the outside wards," Lucius added gravely, looking very tired and worn. He knew, he knew it would turn out like this and Tom knew as well, and still he forced Caligo into their care. "Are you sure he wouldn't manage to get inside? To kill us all to simply take Caligo?"

"I doubt that," Tom said simply, "He is not coming back today or tomorrow, that I can guarantee, he needs time to recover. And we have plenty of time to secure the place," he looked at Caligo, who was still looking down. The boy was clearly upset, devastated even. "Did this Noctis tell you anything about you, your condition, his plans?" he asked, gently taking the boy by the chin and pushing his head up to look into his now green eyes.

"He said I was left behind as an experiment. He thought I would get killed when I loose my sanity to hunger. Now he wants to take me wherever he lives and train me to become like him. Calls me his child," Caligo said coldly, disgusted.

"He didn't act towards you as a child I must say," Tom snorted, "Though his intentions were rather clear," he gave the boy a pointed look. Caligo, unable to blush, bit his lower lip and averted his eyes. Tom smirked at him and Lucius coughed, realizing what his friend was talking about.

"So he wants you as his lover?" the blonde asked incredulously.

"I don't care what he wants, I'm not coming with him anywhere," Caligo growled angrily, suddenly looking very cold and menacing, sending shivers down Lucius' spine. There was the real Caligo again, the murderous bloodthirsty creature.

"He would be hunting you down, you won't be safe at Hogwarts," he told both Caligo and Tom.

"We will see about that," Tom smiled unkindly. Lucius gave him a doubtful look but didn't comment. Caligo shrugged and sighed into his glass. This was only the beginning.

**_enigma_**

Narcissa sought them out and dragged Caligo to the dance floor with a disapproving look on her face. He obediently took the lead and they danced alone, surrounded by the crowd of spectators, curiously watching the mysterious boy holding the lady of the Malfoy family in his arms. They whirled and turned fast but smoothly, gracefully. When the music finished, everybody applauded them and circled Caligo to find out who he was. Upon taking a closer look, most recognized him as one of the Hogwarts' champions in the Triwizard Tournament. When the name Tenebris reached the farthest corners of the ballroom, everybody turned to see the unexpected heir of one of the most prominent french families. The wizards and witches from France elbowed their way through the crowd to get a better look, to shake his hand, to ask him where had he been all this time. Their hungry eyes and sly smiles told the vampire he was in danger. Occupied with the search for an escape he hadn't noticed Riddle coming close from behind. A hand fell on his shoulder and he turned to see the Senior Undersecretary smiling tightly at everyone around them. Riddle smoothly took all the attention upon himself, accepting the countless questions about his charge, about his participating in the tournament, about where was Caligo hidden all these years. He readily gave answers, easily lying and twisting the truth. Caligo simply stood next to him, modestly looking down on his hands - he was grateful to let Riddle do the talking.

Lucius, who watched the scene from afar, was once again marveling at Artemida's wisdom and cunningness. She knew she wouldn't be able to adopt the boy by blood because of his condition, however, she took him in anyway. The smart witch planned everything perfectly, he had no doubts she had been looking for an heir for some time and Caligo was indeed a rare, precious find. It was ridiculous just how much he looked like Tenebrises. Lucius asked for their photographs and portraits if any were left in public access and found the resemblance to be unmistakable. Tom told him that Caligo was the last Potter, which was a Fate's cruel prank no less, and now that he thought about it, perhaps Potters were related to Tenebrises, but managed to hide this fact. It wasn't unheard of to reject the part of your family, especially when that part was dark. Potters, who were famous for their Light-only heritage would have, of course, denied any connection to the dark french family. It was possible that Artemida took the boy in because he was the Potter and they were actually related. The more Lucius thought about it, the more curious he got. Just how were the two most different, polar families related to each other? Was it possible that Caligo was born already dark? Artemida surely knew the whole truth but she took all the secrets with her into the grave.

It was a shame she couldn't outsmart the Ancient vampire and had to die so gruesomely, however, he had to give her credit, she managed to hide Caligo very well from everyone, even at Hogwarts, for so many years and none was the wiser. Only Dumbledore noticed him, but saw him solely as a long lost child of light, a Potter. And what was the Ancient's role in all this? The vampire must have chosen the boy because of his dark powerful heritage, he surely could care less for the names and political intrigues. But for their cause it was imperative to get to the bottom of this. Many legislations were written and passed by the Potters over the years, if they could find the concrete, legal connection between the Potters and the Tenebrises, they could easily prove Caligo to be a Potter without any blood tests, that could compromise his situation. As soon as he was accepted and got his family's seats in Wizengamot, they would be able to change everything much faster and easier. Yes, Caligo was a priceless ally. Bribing the Wizengamot's members was efficient, of course, but it couldn't last forever, but affecting them from the inside, actually influencing them through a respected name and twelve seats was a completely different matter altogether. Not to mention that Caligo could easily bewitch half of them with his vampire magic, submit them to his will. No Dumbledore would be capable of ruining their plans then.

The only problem was this Noctis, who chose the most inconvenient time to reconnect with his child, creation, pet, whatever. Lucius had no doubts that Tom would be able to kill the bloodsucker - there was nothing Tom wasn't capable of, except love, however, he was also certain that Noctis wouldn't be alone, he would bring his coven with him. He used his dogs to burn down the town Caligo lived in, surely he would let them loose the next time somebody would interfere with his plans. If only they knew what exactly were the Ancients and what was Caligo's role in Noctis' scheme... If the boy was an experiment, then the Ancients were actually plotting something - were they planning to turn wizards and usurp the community? The whole country? Caligo failed their tests by hiding in the wizarding world, by leading the life he was always supposed to lead as a human, hiding his true nature and subduing his hunger. Would there be more experiments in the future or would Noctis act openly and use the boy as a weapon against them all? Who was Noctis anyway? He was a vampire-wizard, so he must have been human before he was turned, he must have led a life of his own in their community. But they had no information regarding his age or his true name. No, the vampire was a dead-end.

Lucius sighed and rubbed his forehead, frowning to himself. He and Tom were now responsible for the little vampire. The sounds of music brought him out of his reverie and he saw that everybody was dancing again, Caligo paired up with Draco trying to, no doubt, avoid the vultures who were already seeking his hand in marriage. His eyes searched for Tom and found him talking to Severus. The potions master looked excited, which was a rare expression Lucius had the pleasure of seeing on his face. Severus nodded at something Tom said and took out his notebook. Tom squeezed his shoulder approvingly and walked away, looking pleased.

**_enigma_**

The next morning Tom woke Caligo early and took him out to the edge of the outside wards. He was going to put up anti-vampire wards around the grounds and Caligo was to stay outside to be invited in later, since they couldn't key him in with his blood - he shared it with Noctis. Lucius was already waiting for them. He helped Tom to find the key stones that held the magic of the wards. Together, they brought each stone from underground and Tom spelled them in parseltongue, hissing long complex incantations, waving his wand with one hand and placing the other on top of the stones, making them glow. Caligo walked beside them, watching Riddle work. An hour later, when all the stones were spelled and hidden back into the ground, Lucius took the vampire's hand and pulled him through the wards. It burnt painfully on his skin, Caligo fell on his knees when he was finally inside, panting and rubbing on his chest. Lucius helped him up and stared at the boy in shock, upon seeing his face. There were ugly burns all over his skin and his eyes turned red from the pain. Tom only raised his eyebrow at that and inspected the injures curiously, turning Caligo's face to the sides. He used black magic in warding the grounds, he spelled it so strong that even invited, the lower vampire would have died. Caligo, though, being a higher creature and a wizard, simply got burnt. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Tom decided to add the same layer of wards around the manor, just in case. A half hour later Caligo had to be pulled through the blazing fire once again and this time he screamed, for the pain was completely unbearable. He thrashed on the floor, screaming and scratching his face, trying to lessen the burning. Lucius and Tom stood close, watching him intently. The boy's face did in fact morph, it sharpened slightly, almost imperceptibly, his fangs grew longer and his fingernails transformed into sharp animal claws. Caligo was going to loose his humanity one day, they had their proof now.

"Would he burn every time he crosses the wards?" Lucius asked worriedly.

"No, he is now keyed in by your invitation," Caligo was glad to hear that. He finally came back to his senses and lay still on the floor, trembling as his body healed itself, regenerating his skin back. He turned to look up at Riddle.

"What kind of black magic did you use, sir?" he whispered, his throat still sore and aching. Tom looked at him in surprise.

"How do you know it was black magic?" he asked incredulously. Surely, Artemida didn't teach her child the black magic, it was dangerous and she wasn't a practitioner herself as far as he knew. So how could Caligo know? Hogwarts' library had nothing of that kind of literature, since it was illegal to even keep the books on black magic, let alone practice it.

"I told you, sir," the vampire stood up, the burns on his face slowly dissipated, morphing into the healthy soft skin again, "I know many things," his face was unreadable. Tom narrowed his eyes and stepped closer, towering over the boy.

"What are you hiding from me, Caligo?" he growled lowly, looking straight in the golden eyes.

"You know you can't use legilimency on me, sir, as a vampire I am immune to mind magic," Caligo smiled at him softly, "I would tell you only if you tell me what you are," he gave Riddle a pointed look. Lucius stared at the two of them in bewilderment. Caligo had the guts to play with Tom, and the man let him!

"You are in no position to dictate the conditions of our agreement, little vampire," Tom hissed menacingly, letting his eyes glamour fall, "How do you know about the parseltongue, about the black magic? Surely, Artemida hadn't taught you all these," he glared at the boy, enraged. Nobody dared to play with him, keep secrets from him.

"I haven't joined you, there is no agreement between us," Caligo hissed back, staring into the blood red eyed defiantly.

"I would crucio you right now if you don't answer me, I would not tolerate your disrespect," Tom's face darkened and he drew his wand, pushing it against the boy's throat.

"Then you are no better than Noctis, Voldemort," Caligo spat, "Nobody owns me and I answer to no one. I am not his pet and, surely, not yours," he snarled in the man's face and bared his fangs, hissing at him menacingly, like an animal trapped in a cage. Lucius took a step back as their auras lashed out and clashed, struggling against each other.

"Crucio!" the boy fell down on his knees, clawing on the floor, but he didn't scream, he greeted his teeth and cringed in pain, but no sound escaped his lips.

"This is the submission you owe me, ungrateful child," Tom crouched next to him, grabbing him on the jaw painfully, "I protect you, I care for you and you are to answer to me honestly and serve me at the best of your abilities if you value your life, that, I have no doubts, you do," he kept intensifying the strength of the curse, and Caligo began thrashing on the floor, being held up only by Tom's tight grip.

He started growling lowly, trying to overcome the pain. Vampires had a much stronger pain barrier than humans but they couldn't hold against cruciatus, especially after burning all over and spending the power on regeneration. He growled lower and tried to shook Tom's hand off but the grip on his jaws only tightened, preventing him from looking away. The burning ruby eyes were staring into his possessively, demandingly, Caligo thought that even Noctis didn't look at him that intently. These eyes were skinning him and caressing at the same time, how could Riddle possibly feel such strong emotions combined together? Or was he incapable of actually feeling, deciphering them, and simply endured them all as a form of anger, rage? Caligo whimpered, unable to hold on any longer as his insides were squeezed harshly and what seemed like a thousand knives sliced into them, cutting deep.

"This should teach you a lesson, my little vampire," Tom hissed into his ear and canceled the curse, letting go of him and dropping his head down on the floor.

Panting, Caligo lay still, cold sweat ran down his face and spine as he clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. Yesterday he did talk to Nott and Rosier - two of Riddle's closest followers, who were all too happy to share the party's goals and ideas with the vampire. They gave Caligo some valuable insights on their activities and plans and most of them, he could easily admit, he found truly interesting and promising. However, the notion that all Riddle's followers were his slaves, belonged to him like kettle and were bound to him by their life and magic, disgusted Caligo. Subconsciously he knew he himself was a slave and was ought to submit to his master, but somehow something went wrong with him when he was turned, he didn't know how to explain it, but he felt that his nature, his dark predatory entity hated the idea of submission, rejected it, fought its tooth and nail to avoid any kind of servitude he might have gotten into.

"So this is how you force all your followers into submission, by torturing them into insanity? Scaring them with the prospect of unbearable pain and slow violent death? Do they really value you as their leader or are they afraid of you as a possessive tyrant? Do you even see them as human beings?" Caligo laughed bitterly, making both Tom and Lucius stare at him. Tom's face contorted and he sneered at the boy.

"You would remember to watch your lovely mouth, Caligo," he greeted out, "Or wasn't that enough for you? Would you like some more? I would gladly indulge you," he bent down to look into the pale beautiful face of a vampire lying on the floor, stretched at his feet.

"If it would help you feel like you own me, then please, indulge yourself," Caligo laughed again, smiling at him mirthlessly. Tom thought he had enough of this. He couldn't let the bloodsucker humor him, even though he felt fascinated with the boy's stubbornness. Nobody ever dared to fight him, to challenge him. Caligo was a true enigma, he simply couldn't read the boy. Determined and fuming in anger, he straddled him and pressed his wand painfully to the boy's chest, ready to get as much pleasure as he could from torturing the little devil.

"Crucio," he purred, looking into the bright golden eyes. _What a truly mesmerizing sight._

Lucius thought he was used to watching Tom torture others. And he was, he simply never met anybody who could laugh at his lord afterwards, who could question his leadership, his reign. Lucius knew that the questions the boy asked were the right ones, they were the corner stone of being in servitude to the Dark Lord. These were the questions Lucius had been asking himself for a year since his marking, knowing the answers all too well. Of course they all feared Tom, many even hated him but kept following him blindly and enduring his punishments. Lucius himself was crucioed almost to death many many times when he was young for defying his master, for denying his authority. However, cruciatus wasn't the worst punishment, it was a preventive measure, an exercise in submission each one of them had to take from time to time. Tom was very creative when it came to killing and really torturing. Being the emotionless, heartless bastard that he was, Tom favored to torture them psychologically by violating their minds, playing with their feelings, depriving them of hopes and dreams, he was a true master of the art of cruelty. The worst punishment was to be stripped of one's magic, to be turned into a squib. Tom simply absorbed all of the magical power of his victims and left them to suffer and go insane in the absence of the most precious part of their lives, of their nature. They all committed suicide aftwards, always.

And Tom could be charming, caring, yes, he could give them just one quick glance of approval and they were eagerly prostrating themselves at his feet, kissing the hem of his robes and craving his rare, gentle smile. He manipulated them skillfully, easily, uncaringly. Lucius knew it was impossible to fight him, if Tom wanted you, he took you and made you his. But Caligo was something else, perhaps, being just as emotionless and fearless as Tom, he couldn't be simply tortured and beaten into the servitude, but how could Tom force him then? His lord and his friend never took no for an answer, he never gave up. It would be interesting to watch him and Caligo fight each other. However, one thing Lucius couldn't quite wrap his mind around was that, despite Caligo being a useful servant and all, the boy wasn't vital for their cause, without him they would simply continue with their slow usual pace, winning eventually. Why was Tom so adamant to keep the vampire to himself? What was he trying to prove and to whom? Why was he ready to endanger them all, put their lives at risk, to simply save one bloodsucker? Lucius knew how possessive and arrogant Tom was, but he was also reasonable and wise, yet he acted strange. He should have a talk with his friend, Lucius decided.


End file.
